


A Better Tomorrow

by persephoneggsy



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, But it's there, M/M, Technobabble, also percival's name is alastair, harry and eggsy start out relatively the same age, inspired by Doctor Who, literally making up all the science here, merlin is harry's bestie, percival is roxy's uncle, the roxlin is sort of background
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-22 05:39:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3717166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephoneggsy/pseuds/persephoneggsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Hart meets Gary "Eggsy" Unwin one autumn night in 1981. He is 22. Eggsy is 21.</p><p>Time Travel AU in which Eggsy and Harry are lovers in the 1980s, but a mission gone wrong sends Eggsy 30 years into the future- and for those past thirty years, Harry thought he was dead. They both have to deal with how time has changed them- or not changed, in Eggsy's case.</p><p>EDIT: Now with a Chinese Translation!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A brand-spankin'-new AU! I was basically just watching Doctor Who, and this quote came up: 
> 
> Future Amy: I got old, Rory. What did you think was going to happen?  
> Rory: Hey! I don't care that you got old. I care that we didn't grow old together.  
> \- Doctor Who, “The Girl Who Waited”
> 
> This is one of my favorite lines from the show, because awww! Rory is such a sweetie! And then I got to thinking, hey, maybe I can write a Hartwin AU around this? Why? Because I'm trash, that's why.
> 
> So here you go!
> 
> EDIT: [Chinese Translation](http://hwchan.lofter.com/post/1d4662ec_7f71408) courtesy of Yoshiun!

**1981**

The streets of London were dark, but not abandoned. People littered the pavement here and there, some couples huddling together in the chill of autumn, others just hurrying to get to their destination to get out of the blasted cold. Harry, however, was quite content to take his time. He walked casually, the cool breeze nothing to him in his Kingsman-issue bespoke suit; after all, what was the point of being able to stop bullets if it couldn’t protect against a northern wind?

That, and he had just returned from a mission in Russia. London was nothing compared to that.

His umbrella occasionally tapped the concrete pavement, being used as more of a cane than its intended purpose. He looked almost comically out of place there, in a street crowded with pubs and ratty hotels, while he was the very picture of posh. He could have taken the car, yes, and avoid a potential mugging, but really, what was a street thug to a trained secret agent like him?

He’d been in the middle of humming a light tune to himself when he heard a loud crash several feet in front of him. Curious and already on guard, Harry slowed his steps and cautiously approached the source. A dim, filthy alleyway soon came into view, and more noises filtered through the air; voices. Harry could already count four or five distinct tones without having to peer around the corner.

“Who the hell do you think you are, then, eh?” one voice jeered.

“Just cause your mum’s shacking up with the boss, don’t mean you can disrespect us like that!” called another, and was followed by a raucous murmur of agreement. Then there was a thud, followed by a low groan.

Harry turned the corner and took in the scene before him. Five men, dressed in poorly coordinated outfits (though that was likely just the tailor in him speaking), stood in the alley, crowded around a dark form he couldn’t quite make out. They all had smug expressions, like they’d just gotten away with something horrible.

The dark form moved, and Harry realized with a start that it was a person. Another young man, in the same age range as the others, though considerably more handsome, if Harry had to say so; quite possibly only a few years younger than Harry himself. He had pale skin currently mottled with bruises, a split lip, and hair mussed so roughly it must have been from a fight, but if one could imagine him in a healthy state, then he would be very attractive indeed. Harry didn’t have the time to dwell on this, however, as the young man rose to his full height, albeit swaying just slightly, and _spat_ blood on the feet of one of the other men.

“Bite me, you fucking pricks,” he challenged, actually _smirking_ despite his precarious position. Harry felt an odd sort of admiration for the stranger. Then the young man’s eyes drifted over the shoulders of the indignant men, spotting Harry in his not-so-well selected hiding place. His face fell into an expression of shock, causing the other men to turn around and spot Harry as well.

The agent straightened his back, and tightened his grip on the umbrella.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” he said cordially. Even when faced with danger, one must never forget their manners.

“Who the fuck are you?” one of the men, a short and pudgy thing, asked harshly.

“Just a passerby,” answered Harry.

“Yeah, well, keep on passing,” said another man, this one tall and gangly compared to his friend. He had an ugly sneer on his features. “This ain’t your business.”

“Is it not?” he asked, feigning innocence by tilting his head to the side with a curious expression. He thought he saw the attacked young man’s lips twitch, and felt strangely gratified.

“He’s right,” the stranger said, to Harry’s surprise. “This don’t concern you. You really should go.” Perhaps strangest of all was the tone with which he said this. Instead of sounding offended or stubborn, the young man had genuine worry in his eyes. Was he worried about Harry, a man whose name he didn’t even know, getting hurt? Harry was rather impressed- and slightly touched.

“I can’t very well leave,” Harry said. “Not when I know what’s about to happen. No, I rather think I’ll stay.”

“Oi, posh boy,” the skinny thug growled, stepping forward with what Harry assumed was a menacing posture. “You heard him. Get lost. Or we’ll have to teach you some manners, too.”

Harry chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Manners? On the contrary, I believe you and your friends are the ones in need of an etiquette lesson.” He stepped forward too, with a proper expression of deadly intent, and was satisfied when a few of the men stepped back subconsciously. “You do know the old expression, don’t you? Manners. Maketh. Man.” He punctuated each word with a step forward.

There was a short period of absolute silence, Harry and the five thugs engaged in some sort of staring contest, as the young man looked hopelessly confused. Then, the short and fat one let out a yell and ran towards Harry. The agent almost scoffed at his lack of form.

He flicked his wrist and tossed his umbrella up in the air, catching it by its middle with practiced ease, and swung the heavy wooden handle upwards, colliding with the short thug’s jaw just as he neared Harry, fist raised. The thug went reeling backwards, crashing into a few of his associates. The rest of them, the young man included, stared at Harry.

“Are we going to stand around here all day?” Harry asked, casually leaning on his umbrella. “Or are we going to fight?”

And then all hell broke loose.

Two of the men charged for Harry, the other still stuck under the impressive weight of his unfortunate friend. The tall one made for him as well, but the young man snapped out of his stupor and grabbed him by the collar of his jacket, yanking him backwards with a vicious shout. Harry brought his umbrella up again, this time swinging the pointed tip at his attackers, smiling as its cut into both their cheeks and left a trail of blood flying through the air. Then he moved forwards, deftly punching one of them in the stomach and dodging the wild swing of the other. He grabbed a fistful of the first man’s shirt and pulled, tugging him with impressive strength right into his friend- both toppled to the floor, their heads colliding, knocking them unconscious.

Harry smirked, then let his eyes drift over to the young man to see if he was okay. To his surprise, the young man was currently exchanging punches with the skinny thug, and he was doing a bloody good job of it. His fist caught on the thug's jaw and sent him spiraling to the left; he seized the opportunity and delivered a swift kick directly to his crotch. The thug fell to the ground, groaning in agony. Harry allowed himself to be impressed yet again. He lacked grace, certainly, but there was no denying that the young man had gusto.

Another yell brought Harry out of his reverie. The two remaining men were advancing towards them- one for Harry, and one for the young man. But the one stalking towards the young man reached for his pocket, where a distinctly familiar shaped bulged, a small patch of metal gleaming in the dark. In an instant, Harry ran in front of the young man, just as the thug pulled the gun out of his pocket; he opened his umbrella just in time to stop the onslaught of bullets. The material of his umbrella became transparent, and he heard the quiet utterance of awed profanity from his impromptu fighting partner, but Harry made himself focus on the task at hand. He pulled at the handle and flicked a switch that had appeared. Seconds later, a heavy but compact weight shot out of the umbrella's tip, rocketing towards the two men. Its momentum caused it to crash into one's forehead, which in turn caused him to stumble back and knock into the last one. They fell in a crumpled heap, and Harry folded up his umbrella with a satisfied smile.

"Fuckin’ hell."

Harry turned to see the young man gaping at him.

"Ah, yes. I do beg your pardon, I got a bit carried away," he said apologetically. He even had the decency to blush, and it had nothing to do with the stranger's awed expression. He stuck out a hand and smiled as gently as he could manage, considering he'd beaten more than half of the people in that alley into submission. "Harry Hart."

The young man blinked a couple of times before startling, hurriedly shaking Harry’s hand. “Eggsy,” he replied. Harry raised an eyebrow at the name, but said nothing more. Instead, he noticed how the young man’s- sorry, Eggsy’s- knuckles were bruised and bloody.

“You’re hurt,” Harry said, a statement of the obvious. “You need to get those treated-”

Eggsy stopped him with a wide grin. “Nah, I’ve had worse. But thanks, though.” His smile diminished, becoming more sheepish as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “And, uh… Thanks for helpin’ me out. You didn’t have to.”

Harry felt his lips twitch into a smile of his own. “I wanted to.” He looked over Eggsy’s face and stepped closer. “Are you quite sure you don’t want any sort of treatment?”

“Really, I’m fine. This is the least that lot has done to me.” He glared down at the unconscious bodies that littered the alleyway. Then he looked back at Harry. “‘Sides, I’m a fast healer. I’ll be good as new tomorrow, yeah?”

“If you say so,” Harry frowned. It was clear from his tone that he didn’t believe the young man.

Eggsy licked his lips, wincing visibly as he tasted blood. “Tell you what, though. I could really use a pint.”

At that, Harry laughed. “I’m rather in the mood for a Guinness, myself.”

Eggsy’s eyes lit up. “There’s this pub just down the road- if you want to, we could…”

Harry held up a finger. “On one condition.”

“... Yeah?”

“Let me at least clean those injuries. It wouldn’t do to get an infection.”

Eggsy stared at Harry for a while before nodding, another bright grin on his face. “Okay, deal.”

The two young men left the alleyway, stepping casually over the thug’s bodies.

The night had taken a rather unexpected turn for Harry, but as he was to learn, nothing was ever expected with Gary “Eggsy” Unwin.


	2. How quickly things can go awry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a few years of domestic bliss, Harry decides to tell Eggsy the truth about his life. In some ways, he gets results he is happy with. In others... He wishes he never told Eggsy.

* * *

 

**1984**

Harry awoke, as per his routine, at seven a.m. sharp. The early morning sun was hidden behind a grey cloud, casting a pale light into Harry’s bedroom. On the foot of the bed, a Yorkshire Terrier was sound asleep, breathing evenly. Harry moved to get up, but was stopped by a pair of arms wrapped around his waist. Looking down, he smiled fondly at the owner of the stubborn arms.

“I have to get up, Eggsy.”

“Why?” he whined, pulling Harry closer, burying his face in between the agent’s shoulders. “Can’t you call in sick or somethin’?”

“I’m afraid not.” Tempting as it was to spend the whole day lounging at home with Eggsy, a Kingsman couldn’t call in sick. Mostly because Merlin would definitely know if Harry was lying or not. Besides, Eggsy didn’t actually _know_ that Harry was a secret agent. As far as he was concerned, his young, handsome, and oh-so-posh boyfriend was just a tailor at a shop named Kingsman. A tailor with an impressive and extensive military career (hence the reason he could so easily beat up good-for-nothing thugs), but a tailor nonetheless.

Harry was aware, however, that Eggsy had been growing increasingly suspicious of the validity of his job. Especially whenever Harry left the country for several days, sometimes weeks, and returned with a sprained wrist or a split lip, which Harry explained away with excuses that Merlin had help him come up with on the way home. But Eggsy, bless him, never pushed or got angry, which only served to remind Harry that he didn’t deserve this gorgeous man.

Eggsy’s resulting groan brought Harry back to attention. “They’re workin’ you too hard, they are. You should go on strike or some shit.”

Harry chuckled, running his fingers through Eggsy’s hair. “I can survive, darling. But thank you for your concern.”

Sensing that he wasn’t going to convince Harry, Eggsy reluctantly let go of his waist, allowing the agent to get out of bed. Before he left for the shower, Harry leaned down and gave Eggsy a chaste kiss, their typical morning gesture, and moved around the bed to give the dog, Mr. Pickles, an affectionate pat on the head.

Twenty minutes later, Harry was showered and dressed, while Eggsy had only moved to sit up in their bed as the former strolled back into the room.

“Any plans for today?” Harry asked conversationally, fixing his tie without even needing a mirror.

“Was thinkin’ of visitin’ my mum and Daisy,” replied Eggsy. He patted Mr. Pickles with a sullen expression, though the dog was obviously enjoying the attention. “Assumin’ that bastard ain’t there.”

Harry abruptly frowned, remembering Eggsy’s stepfather, who was almost always referred to as ‘that bastard’ or some other colorful variation of the term. He’d had the immense displeasure of meeting the man once, under the pretense of being a friend of Eggsy’s. In a short span of five minutes, Harry had been called more names that he’d ever been in his life by the drunken, belligerent man.

Well, at the very least, Eggsy’s mother and little sister were absolutely delightful. In fact, Michelle Unwin knew the true nature of their relationship, and was completely fine with it, making her part of an exclusive group that consisted of a few of Harry’s coworkers (i.e., just Merlin) and Eggsy’s closest friends. Everyone else merely assumed that they were roommates- not completely inaccurate, but roommates didn’t typically sleep in the same bed and share the occasional shower together.

With one last kiss, this one considerably more intimate, Harry left their home got into the waiting town car. The driver began heading towards Savile Row even without Harry’s instruction, which he said anyway out of habit. Settled comfortably in the backseat, Harry pulled on his glasses and was immediately greeted by a Scottish voice.

“Morning, Galahad.”

“No ‘good’ before that, Merlin?” Harry replied.

“I’m afraid we’ve just received some news that cancels out the ‘good’.” Merlin paused for a moment, and when Harry said nothing, he continued. “Percival is dead.”

Harry inhaled sharply, closing his eyes and leaning back against the leather of the car seats. “I… see. Yes, that does cancel out the ‘good’. How…?”

“Sniper on the roof. He did manage to complete his mission, however.”

Harry smiled. Ever the perfectionist, Percival. He would be missed. “Then we’ll be having the toast when I arrive?”

“Yes. Predictably, you’re late.”

“Not by too much, this time.”

“I noticed. Did you and Eggsy have an early night?”

He could almost hear the smirk in the Scotsman’s tone, and though he couldn’t see it, Harry rolled his eyes. “Despite what you may think, Merlin, we are not engaging in congress every night.”

Merlin snorted. “‘Engage in congress’? Christ, Harry, you sound like an old man. How did you ever manage to get a wild child like Eggsy?”

“I imagine we balance each other out.”

The conversation petered out into more tame topics, to Harry’s relief. After a few more minutes, the car pulled up to the shop. Harry got out and walked inside, greeting the actual resident tailor, and headed up the stairs.

A man with blonde hair streaked with white was already seated at the head of the meeting table, though through his glasses, Harry could see the images of the other Kingsman sitting in their respective places. The man at the head of the table raised an eyebrow at Harry as he walked inside.

“Galahad. Late again.”

“Arthur. As I said to Merlin, not by much.”

Arthur shook his head with a sigh, while Harry took his seat at the man’s right side. A small glass of brandy was already in front of him. Arthur said the customary words of mourning, and they all toasted to Percival’s memory. Then he went into discussing the recruitment selection, and asked the agents to have their proposals ready by the end of the week. The meeting adjourned, and Harry left the meeting room with a quick goodbye to Arthur, making his way to one of the dressing rooms.

Merlin was in his ear again as he stepped into the tube that would take him to the large manor Kingsman called their headquarters. “Won’t this be your first time proposing a candidate?”

“Indeed,” he answered. “Any tips?”

Merlin hummed thoughtfully. “Someone with some military experience is preferable. And you know Arthur, he’d like someone with a pedigree.”

Harry scoffed. “A man of any station is perfectly capable of becoming a Kingsman. Arthur is such a classist.”

“Hmm. Why do I get the feeling you’re thinking of a very specific man as you say that?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Well,” he started, far too innocently. “I might have peeked at his records and found that Eggsy spent some time in the Marines-?”

“No.” Harry’s voice was so stony all of a sudden that it shocked even himself. Merlin went eerily silent, and Harry sighed. “I… No, Merlin. Don’t even suggest it.”

“Why not? He had impeccable marks throughout school, and his commanding officer in the Marines spoke only highly of him. And I read something about gymnastics, but I imagine you utilize that particular skill regularly-”

“Merlin!” Harry shouted, exasperated. He heard a snicker on the other side of the line. The tube slowed to a stop before opening and letting Harry out. Merlin was waiting in the hangar, a smug smile on his face. Harry made no attempt to hide his glare and walked past him.

“Back on topic,” Merlin spoke again, his smile widening when Harry responded with a groan, “wouldn’t this be beneficial for you? You could stop lying to Eggsy about your job. You could even work together. And even if he fails training, he’ll know the truth.”

“I am not getting Eggsy involved in all this,” Harry said, gesturing around them, specifically at the assorted collection of vehicles gleaming down below. “It’s far too dangerous.”

“Harry,” Merlin said dryly, “we’re talking about a man who calls a series of bruises and bloody knuckles ‘dinner with the family’. And if he were afraid of danger, he never would have stuck around the night you met.”

Harry scowled. “I have no doubt that Eggsy would do well as a Kingsman. In fact, he has the potential to be a great one.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Just because I acknowledge his skills doesn’t mean I want him to utilize them in this specific profession. Eggsy could do so much more, Merlin. He’s intelligent and charming, though rough around the edges. Why endanger that potential by putting him in the field to be shot at?”

"What if he wants to use that potential in Kingsman? Harry, you should at least tell him the truth. Then let him decide what he wants."

Harry glanced at his friend, twisting his lips into a grimace. After a long silence, he sighed. "I suppose you're right about that."

"Of course I am," Merlin smiled.

"Just shut up and give me my mission."

 

* * *

 

Harry had expected it to be hard. He didn't expect to blurt it out the minute Eggsy wrapped his arms around his neck as he came through the door, Mr. Pickles yipping at their feet.

"I'm a spy," he said suddenly.

Eggsy pulled away from their hug and regarded him quizzically. "What?"

Harry blushed. "I... I'm not really a tailor," he tried again. This time, Eggsy looked more interested. The younger man let Harry lead him to the couch, where they sat down, hands clasped together.

"I figured you weren't," Eggsy murmured. "But you ain't actually a spy, are you?"

He was answered with silence. Even the Yorkie had gone silent, opting to pad out of the room as if it could sense the tension in the atmosphere.

"... Harry?"

"I didn't really plan this out," he admitted, his eyes trained on their hands. "I thought I could take a day to figure out how I wanted to tell you." And then his mouth had to go and betray him. Typical.

“...Bloody hell, you’re takin’ the piss.” It was uttered as a quiet statement, not a question, and Eggsy’s expression seemed to imply that he worried for his boyfriend’s sanity.

“I am not,” he returned fervently, finally snapping his gaze up to meet Eggsy’s. “I _am_ a spy, Eggsy. My profession as a tailor is merely my cover. Every time I was going out of the country for ‘business’, I was conducting missions.” His gaze turned pleading, as he searched Eggsy’s unreadable eyes. “Please, Eggsy, believe me. I can’t share more with you until I know you do.”

“... Why now?” was Eggsy’s somewhat unexpected response. It made Harry blink.

“What?”

“Why are you tellin’ me now?” The young man suddenly looked upset. “It’s been three years, Harry. I mean, I knew _somethin’_ was up, but a fuckin’ _spy?”_

“Ah, yes…” Harry bit his lip. “First, I need you to tell me that you believe me.”

There was a long period of silence. So long, in fact, that Harry almost feared Eggsy getting up and leaving, never to return. But eventually Eggsy sighed, running his thumb over Harry’s hand, and nodded.

“Of course I do, you bloody tosser,” he said tiredly.

Harry successfully repressed a relieved smile. “Thank you.”

So he explained it all. What Kingsman was, how he’d come to be recruited, and what he really did when he was out ‘for business’. Eggsy, to his credit, listened patiently, though a brief flash of worry or, god forbid, _interest_ sparked across his face as Harry recounted a few of his more memorable ventures.

Harry finished his long-winded speech by telling Eggsy how one of his colleagues had recently died, and that his spot was now vacant for a potential new agent.

Hesitantly, he asked Eggsy if he wanted to join Kingsman.

Unexpectedly (though because it was Eggsy, Harry supposed he should have expected it), Eggsy said yes, after only moments of contemplating. Of course, he was still a bit upset with Harry for keeping such a big secret for such a long time.

But if there was anything Harry Hart was good at- besides dispatching hostiles and defusing the occasional dirty bomb- it was make-up sex.

 

* * *

 

Proposing Eggsy, predictably, had earned a rather dubious scoff from Arthur. That disdain quickly morphed into disbelief, however, when Eggsy proved to be one of the most worthy candidates among them all.

He passed every test with flying colors, as Harry both hoped and feared. Don’t misunderstand, he was thrilled- and a little more than slightly aroused- to see his lover do so well. But each successful step towards the Percival seat meant Eggsy was closer and closer to putting his life in danger every day. He’d told such fears to Merlin, who promptly told him to stop worrying and just be happy for Eggsy, since the lad was fully capable of handling himself, as he’d proven on many an occasion.

And oh, Merlin. While the Kingsman’s resident magician had been longing to meet his best friend’s lover, one never would have guessed that he saw Eggsy as anything other than just another measly recruit. He treated him completely and utterly the same as the rest, and it wasn’t until several weeks into the recruitment process that Eggsy even learned Merlin _was_ Harry’s best friend.

Time went on, and Harry became accustomed to a temporary routine. Since Eggsy was required to stay in the recruit dormitory, Harry had to go home alone, with no one but Mr. Pickles to keep him company. He wondered occasionally what Mr. Pickles would make of Eggsy’s dog, a ridiculously adorable pug he named JB (after James Bond), when he inevitably brought him home. Eggsy had grown furiously attached to his little companion, just as Harry had done with his own.

When they could, Harry and Eggsy would meet privately (with the help of Merlin) and kiss each other dizzy, having almost gone insane from their lack of contact. Arthur had almost caught them once- he wouldn’t have been able to disqualify Eggsy on that alone, but Harry didn’t want to give the man another reason to dislike him.

Eventually, the number of recruits dwindled down to just two- Eggsy, and an Oxford-educated military man named Alastair. Despite competing for the same spot in the illustrious agency, the two young men actually got along rather well. Eggsy had even told Harry once that if he had to lose the job to anyone, he would be alright if it was Alastair- and the man had said the same of Eggsy to his own mentor.

The problem was that they were _very_ evenly matched. They both passed the train test and both shot their dogs- though Eggsy had taken a much longer time to do so- so they were now being taken out on actual missions; supervised, of course. Alastair often accompanied his mentor, Gawain, while Eggsy was nearly always with Galahad. If Harry had to be honest, it was quite… _exhilarating,_ working in the field with Eggsy. When they were in combat, they were in perfect synchronization, covering each other’s blind spots and saving each other’s necks just in time. And if a successful missions just happened to be followed by a celebratory shag, well, only Eggsy and Harry would know.

Harry was beginning to anticipate Eggsy’s induction into Kingsman with eager excitement, now that he’d had a taste of what it was like. His initial nerves about the whole thing were fading.

Which meant to the universe, of course, that everything was about to go horribly wrong.

 

* * *

 

The assignment was simple- Eggsy and Harry were to infiltrate the lab, grab the target, and get to the extraction point. If they were stealthy enough, they wouldn’t even need to fire a single bullet.

The target was a Dr. Robert Williamson, a disgraced theoretical physicist who was kicked out of Cambridge University for running several illegal tests of unidentified devices- devices that the Kingsmen later found out to be weapons.

With intel that Williamson was going to sell such weapons to a foreign government, Arthur decided to send Harry and Eggsy out to kidnap the doctor before he could complete the deal. From there, they would interrogate him and destroy his weapons- assuming they couldn’t find something to use for themselves.

Harry and Eggsy arrived at his secret lab, tucked away underground in the countryside, and things seemed to start out okay. They easily avoided the guards, and any that did spot them got a quick amnesia dart to the neck.

Things went tits-up when they actually _found_ Williamson.

The man was standing in front of a large, circular machine, hurriedly pressing buttons on a computer, apparently unaware of his two intruders. At least, he was, until Eggsy pressed a gun to the back of his head.

“Just come with us, alright?” Eggsy grinned, delighting in the doctor’s scared expression. Harry, standing off to the side of the machine, fought back the urge to roll his eyes. “We can talk things out nice and peaceful like, yeah?”

“They’ll try to find me,” said Williamson, a little more than desperately. “The men who wanted to buy my weapons- they won’t stop.”

“They will, once the British government confronts them about this illegal arms deal,” drawled Harry. He smiled a bit when the color drained from Williamson’s face.

“You can’t take me!” he shouted. “Not when I’m this close-” He gestured wildly to the circular machine. “Do you have any idea what this is?”

Eggsy glanced at Harry. “Do you care?”

“Not at all. You?”

“Nah.”

Williamson’s face contorted with rage. He slammed his hand down on the keyboard, and suddenly a loud whirring noise filled the air. The circular machine began to glow blue, humming with vibrations as the ground shook below them.

“Fuck!” Eggsy shouted, momentarily thrown off balance. “The fuck did you do?”

“Do you see?” Williamson yelled over the din. “ _This_ is what I’ve been working on- And I’m so close, it’s nearly finished!” He grinned in manic delight, pushing buttons at random as his machine grew louder and louder.

Harry lunged forward, grabbing the doctor’s arm and pulling him away from the computer, just as parts of the machine began to spark and explode. One such explosion knocked Harry and the doctor to the floor, several feet away. Eggsy maintained his balance, though, his grip on his gun so tight he could have left dents in the metal.

“Harry!” he yelled, turning to run and help his partner. But the machine gave a loud screech, and the ground shuddered mightily beneath them. The blue glow grew brighter, and tendril of lights spiralled out of the machine. Eggsy gaped at the sight.

Harry struggled to stand, but the he was still winded from the explosion. “Eggsy! Run!”

But he couldn’t move. The blue glow was mesmerizing, the tendrils of light almost beckoning to the agent-in-training. Eggsy shook his head, trying to break out of the trance, and turned again towards Harry- but the machine got to him first.

With one final metallic groan, light exploded out of the machine, enveloping Eggsy in its wake. He screamed, but the sound was cut off as the light abruptly disappeared, and all that was left in the room was Harry, the doctor, and the charred, battered machine.

Harry stared at the machine for what felt like ages. He felt numb, as if he couldn’t quite comprehend what had just happened. Then, anger broke through the numbness, and he advanced on Williamson with murderous intent.

“What happened?!” he practically screamed at the man, who cowered from his spot on the floor. “Where is he?!”

Williamson gave a delirious little giggle. “He’s gone! It worked! It finally, finally worked!” The giggle turned into demented laughter. “I did it!”

Harry scowled, taking out his gun and pistol whipping the doctor, sending him back down to the ground. “I asked you a question! _Where. Is. He?”_

Despite his now-bleeding forehead, Williamson grinned. Instead of answering, the doctor grabbed Harry’s gun, not quite wrenching it out of the agent’s grip, and pulled the muzzle towards him in one, quick movement. He pulled the trigger at the exact moment Harry shouted, and seconds later, the lab floor was decorated with the remains of the poor doctor’s head.

Harry was left alone in the lab, vaguely aware of the alarms now going off. He stared at Williamson’s remains, then the machine. He dropped to his knees just as armed guards began pouring through the doors. His grip on his gun tightened.

Within seconds, it was a bloodbath.

 

* * *

 

Alastair became Percival, but the affair lacked the usual pomp and circumstance. Many of the Kingsman had been rather fond of Eggsy. They sent Harry sympathetic looks, and it occurred to him that many of them had figured out his relationship to the young man. Even Arthur seemed more delicate than usual around agent Galahad.

The worst part, though, was telling Eggsy’s mother. She’d screamed and cried, and Harry thanked god that Dean wasn’t there, since that drunkard would have only made things worse. Michelle resented Harry, and he didn’t blame her. He’d gotten her boy killed, after all- Merlin had been unable to determine what exactly the machine did, but for all intents and purposes, Eggsy was gone. Harry gave her a medal and promised her a favor, but even if that weren’t the customary offering to the family of a lost Kingsman, he would have helped Eggsy’s family in any way he could, for as long as possible.

As it was, however, Michelle didn’t want anything to do with him.

So he left the medal on her table, not knowing if she would keep it or just throw it away, and walked out of her home for the last time.

When he returned to his own house, Mr. Pickles and JB sat patiently by the door. The pug had been depressed since it happened, but Mr. Pickles was a faithful companion, and never left his fellow canine’s side. The dogs followed Harry to the bedroom and clambered up on the bed with him.

Harry tucked his face into his pillow and screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There wasn't really a place to slip it into the story, but Lee Unwin in this AU died in the military. He and Harry never met, but Michelle still winds up meeting Dean and having Daisy. Eggsy's home life here is pretty much the same as it was in the movie.


	3. As the years pass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glimpses of Harry's life without Eggsy for thirty years. And then, a surprise homecoming.

* * *

**1985**

 

The year anniversary of Eggsy’s death came faster than Harry expected. He’d barely glanced at the calendar before a wave of sadness crashed over him. He called Merlin and asked for the day off; Merlin agreed, his tone sympathetic.

He considered calling Michelle, but he knew she would hang up on him the minute he started talking.

Harry stayed in his home all day, draining a bottle of scotch, surrounded by two silent dogs and a house full of painful memories.

 

* * *

 

**1987**

 

Harry was a damn fine agent. He knew that. Everyone else knew that, too.

Even so, having Merlin scream bloody murder in his ear during a particularly stressful mission wasn’t exactly a new thing.

“ _Galahad!_ For god’s sake, man, be careful!”

Harry pointedly ignored the warning, vaulting effortlessly over a partially-destroyed barrier as bullets whizzed past him. One grazed the material of his suit, but though it burned, he pressed on.

This wasn’t the first time Harry had so blatantly disregarded Merlin’s presence. There were other missions, with varying levels of danger, wherein Harry either tuned out the Scotsman’s voice or took off his glasses completely, and they always ended in Harry getting shot at. Now, he never went as far as to jeopardize the mission itself, but if he were a little less cautious on his way back to his hotel, after successfully sending the files Merlin needed to take down the target, and ended up being spotted by said target’s henchmen, well… Perhaps he was just tired.

Or perhaps, Merlin groused under his breath many a time, Harry knew exactly what he was doing.

 

* * *

 

**1988**

 

The infirmary was more used to having Harry Hart in it than having him out. He knew all the hospital staff by name at that point.

As a young, raven-haired nurse (named Celia) finished redressing his shoulder wound, Merlin stormed into Harry’s room without so much as a knock. This startled Celia, but the girl bravely completed her task and waited for Harry’s nod before fleeing the scene. With her gone, Harry raised an eyebrow at his friend.

“You nearly gave her a heart attack,” he chided softly. “This is why knocking was invented, Merlin.”

“Oh, piss off, I’m angry with you.” Merlin moved closer to the bed, his eyes blazing with fury.

Harry looked genuinely surprised. “Angry? Why?”

“For fuck’s sake, Harry! You’re almost thirty years old, you can’t keep injuring yourself like this!” To prove his point, Merlin gestured to the many, many scars littering Harry’s chest alone- all of which had been inflicted in just the past four years.

“Are you suggesting that I’m doing this on purpose?” asked Harry, offended.

Merlin fixed him with a hard glare. “No, I’m not saying that. I _am_ saying that whether you realize it or not, you’ve been putting yourself in harm’s way with _reckless abandon,_ with no thoughts about your own self-preservation or, god forbid, your friends!” He was now at Harry’s bedside, and his expression had softened, though only marginally. “It’s been _four years,_ Harry.”

The agent tensed. Merlin noticed. He went on anyway.

“He wouldn’t have wanted to see you like this.”

Harry looked down at the sheets covering his legs. A grim smile was on his face. “Please, Merlin, is that what you think this is? I am not so unstable that I-”

“It had nothing to do with ‘stability’,” interrupted Merlin. “You lost the love of your life. Anyone would be off-kilter, at least for a while. But you’re not in a line of work where you can mourn forever, Harry. Eggsy wouldn’t have wanted that for you.”

At the name, Harry winced. The other agents had been careful to avoid saying it, but Merlin was in no mood to be delicate.

After a long period of silence, Harry responded. His voice was cracked and broken, as though he might start crying. “... I miss him, Merlin.”

Merlin’s angry expression gave way to one of understanding, and he reached a hand out to pat Harry’s good shoulder. “I know you do. I don’t blame you, Harry, and neither do any of the others. But we all agree that you can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

“I…” Harry swallowed thickly. “I know. I don’t know why I do it, but… I don’t even believe in heaven, but some part of me thought that, maybe, if I’d died…”

Merlin squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t fight to die, Harry. _Live._ Do it for Kingsman, the bloody nation, for _Eggsy._ Just don’t think about dying as your solution.”

A few splattered drops of water alerted Harry to the fact that, yes, he had been crying. Merlin let him sob quietly for a while, rubbing soothing circles into his shoulder. After minutes had passed, Harry’s crying eased, and he looked up at Merlin with grateful eyes.

“I’ll be more careful,” he promised.

“I’m holding you to that.” Merlin quirked a smile. “If you take off your glasses one more time, I’m super gluing them to your temples.”

Harry laughed with tear-stained cheeks, but at least it was a step in the right direction.

 

* * *

 

**1992**

 

Mr. Pickles passed away in the spring, at the age of twelve, from pancreatitis. Harry had cried, then had his dog stuffed, and then put him up in the bathroom. Sometimes JB would sit there and bark at him, until a tired and irritated Harry came in to drag the pug back to the bedroom.

 

* * *

 

**2000**

 

Just days after New Year’s, in the bright shiny new millenium, JB passed away as well, living to the impressive age of sixteen. He, too, was stuffed, and placed alongside Mr. Pickles, where they resided together in companionable silence. Briefly, Harry wondered what Eggsy would say if he saw how fat JB had gotten; he had asked if the pug would get any bigger. And Harry was a sucker for handing out treats.

Harry never got another dog, and Merlin still refused to even set foot in his bathroom.

 

* * *

 

**2004**

 

Blind dates were not anything new. They were a rather common occurrence, really, and Harry couldn’t even bring himself to be bothered by them anymore. He knew Merlin and the others, like Percival and Lancelot, were merely looking out for his better interests. Though, he didn’t see the same problem they did.

So he’d been single for twenty years. Who really cared?

Still, because Harry was a gentleman, he valiantly went on all of the dates that had been set up for him. Some were decent, others were… decidedly less so, but all ended the same way; Harry would help them up from their chair, kiss their cheek goodnight, and never speak to them again.

Percival and Lancelot eventually gave up, and in doing so, discovered that they were suited for each other quite well, which came as a relief to the other Kingsmen- upon seeing the two holding hands, Gawain may or may not have coughed ‘finally’ into his fist as they walked past.

There was one date that _did_ manage to go beyond Harry’s routine. He was a lovely banker named Jonathan, and he matched Harry in interests and intellect, and even in age at forty-five. Harry ended up dating Jonathan for four months. It had ended, rather abruptly, when Harry received a phone call from a frightened young woman, who uttered only three words in a timid voice.

_“Oxfords… not brogues?”_

Harry disappeared for three days, and when he returned, he wouldn’t tell Jonathan where he’d been. Jonathan, tired of all the secrecy, declared their relationship over, and walked out the door. Harry didn’t stop him.

The headline in the local papers the following day read, ‘Local gang leader and cohorts locked up for a slew of vicious crimes’. It wasn’t a Sun article, so Harry didn’t put it up on his wall. Instead, he tucked it into a drawer in his desk, and quietly went on with life.

Harry allowed his thoughts to turn to Eggsy. Had it been Eggsy in Jonathan’s place, he mused, then he would have spilled the truth much sooner.

 

* * *

 

**2015**

 

Seven months after the events of V-Day, Harry found himself in the last place he was expecting: Arthur’s chair.

He was initially shocked when he’d been told about Arthur’s betrayal, but after having plenty of time to mull it over in the Kingsman infirmary, recovering from a bullet to the head, he realized that he wasn’t that shocked at all. A madman billionaire has a plan to wipe out most of the human population, but only after he makes sure the rich and important people are safe first? It wasn’t hard to imagine Chester King going along with it.

Harry had been out cold for most of V-Day, in the emergency room of a Kentucky hospital. He’d awoken weeks later, only to be told by the doctors there that while him surviving was a miracle, his eye couldn’t be saved. So now Harry wore a black eyepatch over his left eye, but he just thanked god that that was the furthest extent of the damage done.

After days in recovery, he called Merlin, who’d almost dropped the phone the minute Harry revealed he was alive, and he was back in London within the week. He was told what happened- how Chester betrayed them, as well as two other agents, Gawain and Bedivere. He’d also been told that their newest Lancelot, Roxanne Morton, had been the one to put a stop to Valentine’s plans. She’d also been the one to find out about and kill Chester- clever girl. Percival must have been proud.

And so it was that Harry found himself at the head of the table, with Roxy to his left and the seat to his right woefully empty. Percival was also physically present, and the rest were out on their own missions. Since V-Day, they’d managed to fill Bedivere’s spot with a young Cambridge woman named Ellen, but Gawain and Harry’s previous position, Galahad, were as of yet unfilled.

Merlin walked into the room, his tablet held securely in one arm. He wore an unusually troubled look as he looked at all the Knights, before his gaze settled on Harry.

“Merlin?” asked Roxy. “Something wrong?”

“It’s… our newest intel.” Merlin paused for a moment. “As you know, we’ve been tracking some suspicious activity in the black market, as people have tried profiting off of stolen weapons or tech since V-Day.”

“Yes, we’re aware,” Percival raised an eyebrow. “It is our mission, after all.”

“Yes, well… Some information has come up, indicating that someone is willing to pay a very high price for a specific piece of technology.”

“And what technology is that?” asked Harry.

“The buyer didn’t specify. All they said was that whatever it was, it was built by…” Merlin grimaced. “... by a Dr. Robert Williamson.”

At once, Harry tensed, his fingers curled into a tight fist. Percival looked shocked, while Roxy glanced around the table, confused.

“I’m… sorry, but who is Robert Williamson?” she questioned.

Merlin obliged her with an answer. “He was a scientist who built and sold weapons illegally back in the 80’s. We were able to stop him from closing a deal with a certain foreign government, but…”

“But…?” Roxy tilted her head, now looking annoyed that Merlin was taking so long.

“Williamson killed himself before we could bring him in,” murmured Harry, and everyone present turned to look at him. The new Arthur had a faraway, pained look to his eye. “He’d activated some strange machine… It killed one of our recruits.”

Roxy blinked. “Oh.”

Merlin nodded slowly, watching Harry warily, but he merely stared down at the table in response. “Yes… And we have reason to believe that it’s this machine the buyer wants. Kingsman apprehended all the other weapons save for that one.”

“Why not that one?” Lancelot continued with her questions.

“It was horribly damaged after its initial use. We tried figuring out what exactly it was, but that proved fruitless. The previous Arthur told us to leave it be, so we did.”

“But if someone is looking for that machine now,” spoke up Percival, “then surely they must know what it is?”

“I believe so.” Merlin tapped a few times on his tablet before looking back at the agents. “I’ve just sent coordinates of Williamson’s old lab to your phones. We’ll need you to go there and investigate. See if anyone else has been there recently, and try to get a look at the machine, if you can.”

“It’s still there?” said Roxy.

“We left the lab mostly untouched,” shrugged Merlin, uncomfortably. “It’s in a remote location underground, and we cleared most of it out, so it seemed superfluous to destroy it.”

Percival and Roxy looked at each other; the older of the agents nodded his head, and they both stood up. They bowed their heads to Harry and Merlin and left quietly, on their way to the jet that would take them to their destination. That left Harry and Merlin in the meeting room, the silence smothering them both.

“Harry,” Merlin started, but Harry held up his hand.

“I know what you’re going to say,” he smiled wearily. “I’m fine, Merlin. Really.”

The technician closed his mouth and frowned. “Are you sure?”

“As long as we can make sure no one ever replicates that machine,” the new Arthur leaned back in his chair, closing his good eye, “then I will be more than fine. Keep me updated.”

That sounded like a dismissal, so Merlin only sighed and left the room.

Harry pressed his hand to his forehead. He still got headaches, occasionally, from the bullet wound, and the sudden influx of memories only made his head pound all the more. A flash of blond hair, a crooked smile, that little scar over his eyebrow-...

“Fuck,” he whispered quietly, not that anyone would have heard him anyway.

 

* * *

 

Roxy glanced at her former mentor, who sat across from her on one of Kingsman’s private jets. The man was bouncing his leg and looking out the window nervously, and those were two things Percival simply didn’t do.

“Uncle Alastair?” she asked softly, but he startled as though she’d shouted.

“I-... Yes, Roxanne?”

“There’s more to Williamson than what Merlin and Arthur said, isn’t there?”

He blinked at her, conflict dancing about it his eyes. Then he sighed, leaning forwards to rest his elbows on his knees. Roxy leaned forwards as well.

“That… recruit, who got killed?” he started, waiting for her to nod. “He was the other candidate for the Percival position.”

She gave a quiet gasp. “So… you knew him?” Her features became drawn with sympathy.

“Yes. His name was Eggsy- at least, that’s how he introduced himself, never got a real name out of him…” Percival smiled fondly for a moment before his frown returned. “And… he was Har- sorry, Arthur’s proposal.” Roxy’s face twisted with grief even further, but Percival hadn’t quite finished.

“And his lover.”

“Oh-... Oh my god.”

He turned his to look back out the window, where there was nothing but obnoxiously blue sky. “Eggsy was a good man, and a spectacular recruit. He probably would have become Percival, if he hadn’t…” he trailed off. “Anyway, that’s why we all reacted so strongly to hearing Williamson’s name.”

“I see…” Roxy stared down at her lap, processing this new information. “I’m sorry.”

He smiled. “It was over thirty years ago.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“... Thank you, Roxanne.”

A few hours later, the jet dropped them off in a large, grassy plain, with no buildings or even homes in sight. Merlin spoke to them through their glasses, and directed them to the entrance to the lab. It was hidden in a small hill, the door having long become overgrown with shrubbery, but amazingly, the passcode Merlin provided for them still worked. The two agents carefully walked through the door and into the lab.

It was thoroughly dilapidated, the metal walls rusted over, and wires and glass littered the floor, as well as the odd bolt or gear. Merlin guided them through several hallways before they reached a large room with a high ceiling. Standing in the center of that room, was the infamous machine.

It was as worn and rusted as the rest of the place, some parts of it having fallen off years ago. The control console was in surprisingly good condition, though it was covered in dust, and there was doubt whether the thing would even start.

“Can you see anything?” Roxy heard Merlin ask.

“No. I don’t think anyone’s been here since Kingsman swept through it,” answered Percival, who lowered his gun by just a fraction. He was staring at the machine with narrowed eyes. “Is Arthur-?”

“He’s at home,” Merlin said quickly, as if he’d expected that question. “He’d rather receive updates than watch this.”

“Of course.”

Roxy felt a twinge of compassion for Harry, and wondered briefly what this ‘Eggsy’ must have been like. She’d always thought of Harry as a distant man, perhaps warm to his friends, but definitely no room for romance. Imagining him being so close to anyone was a bit strange- he never even proposed a candidate for the Lancelot position.

Absently, she brushed her fingers against the control console, her fingers coming away covered in dust. She grimaced, brushing them off on a handkerchief. She heard Percival’s footsteps behind her.

“The place looks abandoned,” the senior agent announced. “No sign of a break-in or other intrusions.”

Roxy opened her mouth to comment, when a distant hum began to sound through the air. She and Percival exchanged glances, just as Merlin asked them both what it was. Then, to their astonishment, the center of the machine began to flicker.

“Oh, god,” Merlin muttered. “Both of you, duck for cover, _now!”_

As the machine grew brighter and the humming more intense, Percival and Roxy quickly ducked behind the control console. The ground was beginning to quake, and Roxy felt uneasy.

“What’s going on?” she had to shout, for the humming was deafening now, and the machine was screeching. “I thought that machine was broken!”

“So did I!” Percival yelled back. “Merlin, what’s-”

He didn’t get to finish that inquiry, as the machine promptly shot out a blue beam of light- it was so blinding that the agents had to turn away, hiding behind the console, until the humming and screeching died down. The agents remained in their huddled positions for a few moments. Then Roxy worked up the nerve to peer over the console at the machine.

What she found, instead, was a body, lying in front of the now-smoking machine.

Instantly, she got to her feet and ran to the body, Percival not far behind her. It was a young man, who, as far as she could tell, had blond hair. He was so covered in ash that it was hard to be sure. His suit, as elegant as a Kingsman’s, though perhaps a bit outdated, was burnt and cut in several places, and the glasses he wore- again, curiously like a Kingsman’s- were cracked.

She carefully slid her fingers around the man’s neck, and was relieved to find a pulse. “He’s alive,” she said, moving to turn him over so that he would be lying on his back. As soon as she did that, Percival dropped his gun. Roxy heard Merlin swear quietly.

“Holy shit.”

Roxy frowned at them both. “What’s wrong?”

Percival’s eyes were wide with shock as he focused on the young man on the floor.

“Uncle Alastair?”

He moved closer to the man, getting down on one knee to get a better look at him. Then, in a hushed voice, he spoke.

“... Eggsy?”


	4. Strange new world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eggsy finds himself in a strange situation, but luckily, there are some very competent people around to help him understand.

Eggsy opened his eyes, and immediately regretted that decision, as bright lights shone painfully onto his face. Once he adjusted to the brightness, he sat up, glancing at his surroundings. He appeared to be in some sort of hospital room, though the machines by his bedside looked foreign; far too sleek and strange. He looked down at his body and checked for injuries- a couple of scratches here and there, and some burn marks as well. Eggsy frowned, trying to remember what had happened.

He was interrupted by the sound of the door opening, and a woman with blonde and grey hair stepped inside. She froze when she saw Eggsy awake, staring at her, but then she smiled warmly and approached him.

“Mr. Unwin. You’re finally awake.”

“Er… Yeah.” Eggsy coughed. It felt like he hadn’t spoken in forever. The woman gestured to a glass of water on the bedside table, and he gratefully drank it.

“I am Morgause,” the woman introduced herself. “Head Doctor for Kingsman.”

Ah, so he was in the Kingsman infirmary. That knowledge comforted Eggsy a little. “What… What happened to me?”

Morgause’s pleasant smile faltered for a moment, but Eggsy saw it. “That is... a little complicated. For now, why don’t you tell me what you think today’s date is? Including the year, if you will.”

He stared at her. “You takin’ the piss?” Her resulting frown told him that she was not. “Uh… Fuck, I dunno. Sometime in November, 1984, innit?”

A distressingly large amount of _pity_ was now written all over the doctor’s face as she wrote something down on her clipboard. She looked Eggsy in the eyes.

“Mr. Unwin,” she said gravely. “What is the last thing you remember happening?”

“I…” He shook his head to clear it of errant thoughts. “I was on a mission with Harr- er, Agent Galahad. Retrieval assignment. There was this… light.” Eggsy frowned. The harder he tried to concentrate, the more his head hurt. “‘M sorry, that’s all I got.”

Morgause wrote something else on her clipboard.

“So, uh… What _is_ today’s date, anyway?” he tried asking.

The doctor sighed, pulling a loose strand of hair behind her ear before speaking again. “Mr. Unwin… It is October 15th… 2015.”

Eggsy stared. “... No, it isn’t.”

“I’m afraid it is.”

“You can’t be fuckin’ serious.” Eggsy quirked a smile, because honestly, it was ridiculous. “It can’t be. Still got my lovely face, see?” To prove a point, he ran his fingers across his cheeks, which were smooth and wrinkle-free. Even if he had been in a coma for thirty years, he’d have definitely grown older. “I was born in 1960. Ain’t no way it’s 2015, love.”

Morgause said nothing, and Eggsy smiled smugly. Instead, the doctor took out a tiny black rectangle from her pocket and pointed it at a larger rectangle mounted on the wall in front of them. A screen flickered to life, revealing a news broadcast being done by a pretty young anchorwoman.

_“... In international news, the Swedish government has yet to select a new Prime Minister, after their previous PM was killed during the V-Day massacre, which occurred all the way back in early 2015. Other governments are having a similarly hard time filling their vacated positions, and…”_

Morgause muted the television and stared pointedly at Eggsy. He glanced back at her, though his expression was easily less confident.

“... This some kind of elaborate joke or somethin’?”

“It’s not a joke, Eggsy.”

A new but familiar voice came from the door. Both Eggsy and Morgause turned their heads towards the owner. Merlin stood there, looking at Eggsy like he wasn’t quite sure he was really there.

“Thank you, Morgause. I’ll take it from here.”

Morgause bowed her head in deference before she left the room. Eggsy had been staring at Merlin all the while, his mouth hanging open.

Merlin smiled tightly. “Hello, Eggsy. It’s been a while.”

“The fuck happened to your _hair?”_ he shouted almost instantly, causing Merlin to flinch and looked annoyed.

“Thirty years can do that to you,” he muttered.

“Oh, fuck, not you too, Merlin.” Eggsy was now visibly distressed. “Please tell me you didn’t shave your head just to play a fuckin’ joke on me! Was this Harry’s idea? I swear, he has no idea how to pull a prank-”

“Eggsy.”

The sudden firmness in Merlin’s voice ceased Eggsy’s rambling. The young man blinked.

“I know this is hard to believe,” he said, stepping closer to Eggsy. “To be honest, we don’t quite understand it ourselves. As far as the records go, Gary Unwin died thirty years ago in 1984, during a mission to apprehend Dr. Robert Williamson.”

“Died?” Eggsy shouted, distressed. “I ain’t dead, and there’s no fuckin’ way I’ve been in a coma for thirty fuckin’ years!”

“Indeed,” said Merlin calmly. “We’ve deduced that the machine previously thought to have killed you was, in fact, a time machine.”

“... A time machine.”

“For lack of a better term, yes.”

“Like in fuckin’ Doctor Who.”

“Essentially.”

Merlin was expecting another outburst of angry disbelief, but all Eggsy did was lie back down against his pillow and stare up at the ceiling.

“Jesus Christ.” There was a pause. “I’m assuming I didn’t get the job, then.”

That earned a small smile from the technician. “Unfortunately, no. Alastair is our Percival.”

A tiny grin showed that he wasn’t bitter. “Good on him.” Eggsy glanced out of the corner of his eye to peer at Merlin. “So... Where’s Harry?”

Merlin tensed. “He’s in a meeting right now.”

“Well, when can I see him? You know I ain’t gonna believe this shit unless I see my own boyfriend thirty years older than I saw him yesterday.” Eggsy’s grin was strained now, and Merlin was looking at him with the same expression Morgause had- with pity.

“Eggsy,” he sighed. “Harry… He doesn’t know you’re here.”

“What? How could he not- You didn’t tell him?” Eggsy sounded incredulous, and to Merlin’s credit, he did look ashamed.

“Would you let me explain, please?” he asked, rubbing tiredly at his forehead. When Eggsy was quiet for more than three seconds, he accepted that as a ‘go ahead’ and began talking.

“We’d received word that someone was trying to find that machine Williamson built- the time machine. Percival and our new Lancelot went to his old lab to investigate, but the machine suddenly started up again. Seconds later, there you were. You have to understand, Eggsy, that we had no idea what was going on. We decided it was best to bring you back to HQ and keep you hidden until we had some answers. Even if that meant keeping the truth from Harry.”

“Well,” Eggsy sat up again, glaring at the technician with as much strength as he could muster. “Did you get your fuckin’ answer, then?”

“... Not all of them. We _have_ confirmed your identity via blood tests. But that’s really all we’re certain of at the moment.”

“You can’t just not let me see him. He’s my boyfriend, Merlin, he’s-...” A sudden look of panic crossed the young man’s face. “... Is he with someone else?” It wasn’t such a preposterous thing to imagine- after all, with thirty years of thinking your lover dead, Eggsy would have expected Harry to move on, however much it might hurt to think it.

Merlin smiled gently at him. “No, Eggsy. Harry’s not attached to anyone. Hasn’t been in a very long time.”

“Oh.” Eggsy wanted to feel guilty about how relieved he was, but he gave up that attempt fairly quickly. He’d just woken up thirty years in the future, give him a break.

“But…” Merlin started, “I need you to understand this. Harry… didn’t take your ‘death’ all too well. One of the reasons we’ve been holding back on telling him is because we don’t know how he’ll react.”

Eggsy scoffed. “We’re talkin’ about Harry, here. He can handle it.”

“Even so… Give us more time to figure things out. We need to investigate Williamson’s machine further, and _you_ have a lot of catching up to do.”

Before Eggsy could ask another question, the door to his hospital room opened, and a pretty young woman with a neat ponytail was standing there.

Merlin smiled widely at her, a gesture which she returned with a pretty grin of her own. It made Eggsy raise an eyebrow.

“Roxy, perfect. I was just about to mention you.” He motioned for her to step forwards, which she did. “Eggsy, this is our new Lancelot; Miss Roxanne Morton.”

“Call me Roxy,” she offered, sticking out her hand.

Eggsy shook it with an impressed look. “You were one of the ones that found me, yeah?”

“Yes.”

Merlin spoke up. “Roxy here will stay to fill you in on what’s happened while you were gone, and also keep an eye on you,” he fixed the young man with a hard stare. “Don’t think thirty years have made me forgot how stubborn you are when it comes to medical leave.”

Roxy looked curious, so he indulged her. “The last time this one needed to stay in a  bed for more than eight hours, he’d somehow procured a paintball gun and managed to get as far as the gardens before we caught him.”

The new Lancelot, caught off-guard, _giggled_ at that, earning a grin from Eggsy.

“What, you shave your head cause you couldn’t get all the blue out of your hair?” he laughed.

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Just keep an eye on him.”

Roxy nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Eggsy gave the man a mock salute as he left the room before looking at Roxy.

“So. Thirty fuckin’ years. You got your work cut out for you.”

 

* * *

 

Well, shit.

Eggsy figured that a lot of things had happened in thirty years, but…

_Holy shit._

Of course, there were all the advancements in technology, like these really thin, flat things Roxy insisted were cell phones, and apparently the internet was really big now- Eggsy had no idea what a ‘Google’ was still, but Roxy promised to show him.

Then there was all that cultural stuff, like the fact that the two princes, who had been _babies_ the last time Eggsy checked, were now fully-grown adults- hell, Prince William was married and had a kid of his own now.

And then there was V-Day. Eggsy could barely believe the level of chaos Roxy had described, but they’d turned on the TV and watched several news reports that were still covering the extent of the damage, so she didn’t have to prove anything. He was quite impressed, really, when he discovered that she was the one who put a stop to it all- and doubly impressed when she admitted to killing the previous Arthur (he wasn’t shocked about his betrayal. He never liked Chester, the dick). And triply impressed when she implied that a Swedish princess had ‘personally’ thanked her.

Roxy had told him all this in the span of about three days, during which Eggsy drifted in and out of consciousness. Every time he went to sleep, he’d wake up and find Roxy sitting beside him, patiently. Then she’d resume telling him about the future without so much as batting an eye. Eggsy decided that he rather liked Roxy.

It wasn’t until the fourth day, when they were talking about how Kingsman itself had changed, that Eggsy worked up the courage to ask about Harry. Roxy obliged him with a little smile.

“Well, he’s the new Arthur.”

Eggsy blinked, before a smile stretched across his face. “Wow.”

“...” Roxy bit her lip, as though contemplating something. “Would you like to see a picture of him?”

He sat up immediately. “Yes! Fuck, thought I was gonna have to beg.”

She chuckled and pulled out her phone, opening up her pictures. She selected one (that she’d taken just the day before for the sole purpose of showing Eggsy, discreetly enough that Harry hadn’t even noticed her take it) and turned the device to face Eggsy.

His mouth fell open. “Oh… damn.”

“Something wrong?” she asked, concerned, and she began to draw the phone back, but Eggsy’s hand on her wrist stopped her.

“No, no, nothin’s wrong. It’s just… Wow. The years have been good to Harry,” he murmured appreciatively. Even so, his brow was furrowed, and the hand on her wrist dropped back to the bed.

“Something _is_ wrong.” Roxy scooted forwards. “What is it?

Eggsy was quiet for a long while, staring at Harry’s picture. “... This is so fuckin’ weird,” he said at last. “It’s like, only a couple of days have passed for me. But to Harry, it’s been thirty goddamn years.” Eggsy closed his eyes and turned away from the phone, so Roxy quietly put it back in her pocket. “I had a little sister. Fuck, she’d be at least thirty now.” He let out a dry chuckle, tears gathering in his eyes. “Dunno if my mum’s even alive. And _Harry,_ Jesus. Last time I saw him he had this ridiculous, poofy hair and a baby face. Now he’s got a fuckin’ _eyepatch._ How the fuck did that happen, anyway?”

Roxy squirmed in her chair as Eggsy trained his eyes on her. “I… I think it’s probably better for him to tell you that story.”

“Assumin’ Merlin ever lets me talk to him,” he muttered. “Bald bastard.”

“He’s dealing with a lot,” snapped Roxy suddenly. “This isn’t exactly an easy situation to understand. Cut Merlin some slack, alright?”

Eggsy stared at her for a few seconds, and realizing what she’d done, she blushed. Eggsy grinned.

“Oooh. That’s how it is, then.”

“How what is?” she glowered.

There was a knock at the door, which thankfully interrupted their conversation. Eggsy gave them permission to enter, and the door swung open, revealing Merlin. Roxy pinked a little bit more when Eggsy subtly nudged her in the arm.

“Eggsy. Roxy,” he nodded to them both in turn.

“Merlin,” they replied in unison.

The technician walked inside until he was standing right next to Roxy, who sat perfectly still in her chair.

“Have you been all caught up?”

“Pretty much. Lovely that the Queen’s still up and kicking.”

Merlin hummed. “Indeed.” Then, he changed the subject. “Percival just returned from Williamson’s lab.” He was referring to Percival’s continued mission to investigate the supposed time machine, though he was now going it alone, since Roxy had been assigned to Eggsy.

Eggsy leaned forwards. “And?”

“We still don’t quite understand how Williamson was able to build such a machine,” said Merlin evenly, “but we are certain now that it is, in fact, some sort of time portal.” He launched into some explanation that involved the words ‘reversed polarities’ and ‘frequency generators’, until Eggsy had to hold up a hand to get him to stop, his mind reeling.

“Basically,” he managed to get out, “it’s definitely what sent me here, yeah?”

“Yes,” answered Merlin, who looked a little put out by having his explanation cut short. “There was some sort of radiation surrounding the machine as well. It’s the same radiation we found traces of in your system.”

“Wait.” Eggsy paled. “I had fuckin’ radiation all over me?”

“Ah, yes. We held off on telling you that. Didn’t want to add to your troubles. Don’t worry, we’ve determined it to be harmless. Likely a side effect of traveling through the space-time continuum.”

Sometimes Eggsy wondered if Merlin ever made this stuff up. He crossed his arms with a huff, glaring at the technician. Roxy, at least, was giving him a sympathetic look.

“So, what now?” he muttered.

“Now, we report our findings to Arthur. He’ll determine our next course of action.”

The mention of Arthur, of _Harry,_ made Eggsy’s glower disappear. He now looked like an excited puppy, at least in Roxy’s mind.

“And, when you tell Harry…” he trailed off, hope gleaming in his eyes.

Merlin smiled tiredly. “We will also inform him of your… arrival.”

Eggsy’s answering grin was so wide and bright it made Roxy and Merlin both wonder if he’d ever stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eggsy seems like he's taking it all rather well now, but just you wait.
> 
> The long-awaited reunion between you-know-who is next chapter, I promise!
> 
> Also, one of the only things I had definitively planned out when I began writing this was Eggsy reacting to Merlin's baldness. Just a little tidbit to tell you what my priorities are.


	5. Not a common reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eggsy and Harry are reunited, but it doesn't go exactly as Eggsy imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative title for this story: Time Travel is a Bitch.

If the past few days had been difficult for Eggsy, then they were utter hell for Merlin.

Keeping a secret in an organization that _dealt_ in secrets was no easy task, especially when everyone you worked with happened to be a secret agent.

It was worse still when the most important person who had to be kept in the dark was your best friend. But luckily, Harry was almost severely disinterested in the Williamson case, so he was alright with receiving the bare minimum of information. Still, if Merlin ever acted suspiciously or nervously, then Harry never said a word.

It had been a tense few days, as Eggsy was recovering covertly in the infirmary with Roxy as his guard, and Percival was headed back to Williamson’s lab to do a follow-up investigation. When the latter returned, an armful of well-hidden, abandoned files tucked into his bag, Merlin spent the next two nights poring over every word, compiling Williamson’s data until he was satisfied that he’d reached a conclusion.

Williamson was a madman, there was no question about that. The files contained his notes and research about the possibility of time travel and the various methods he would go about trying to make it happen, including the blueprints for the infamous machine. But he was a brilliant madman, and he’d managed to make his dream a reality, if only for just the one attempt.

Finally, after being sleep deprived for the better part of the week (which Roxy had noticed and immediately gone to get him coffee, bless her), Merlin could no longer avoid it. He had to tell Arthur the status of the mission, and in turn, that meant telling Harry that his lover was back from the dead.

He found Harry in his office, flipping through documents at such a high speed that he doubted he was actually even reading them. Merlin coughed quietly into his fist, causing the agent to look up.

“Ah, Merlin. Come in.” As Merlin did so, Harry pushed the documents away from him. “An update on the Williamson case?”

“Yes.” Merlin took a deep breath to steel himself. “Harry, I haven’t been completely honest with you regarding this mission.”

Harry blinked his one good eye. “I… see. What exactly do you mean, Merlin?”

“When I said that Percival and Lancelot didn’t find anything on their first venture to Williamson’s lab… I lied.” He had the grace to look apologetic. Harry merely watched him, his face impassive. “We did find something. Or rather, something kind of found us.”

“Was the operation revealed?” asked Harry immediately.

“No.”

“Then what is it, Merlin?” Now Harry sounded tired. And vaguely irritated.

“I think it’s best if I show you.” Merlin motioned for Harry to stand up, which he did with a huff, and lead the agent out of his office. They trailed down the hallways of Kingsman HQ, and the technician was more than aware of Harry’s curious-and-annoyed stare at his back. They reached the infirmary a few minutes later.

“Was someone hurt?” Harry asked, concerned.

Merlin said nothing, but instead opened the door and stepped aside to allow Harry in. The agent raised an eyebrow at him. Still, he peered into the room out of courtesy-

-and was met with the sight of a ghost.

The ghost was seated on the bed, dressed in the typical, hospital-mandated white clothing, his legs swinging nervously over the sides, his hands clasped together on his lap. The moment Merlin had opened the door, however, his legs stopped swinging and he stared at Harry just as Harry stared at him.

Blonde hair. Blue eyes. That little scar over his eyebrow.

Eggsy gave a crooked smile. “Hey, Harry.”

For a long while, Harry said nothing. Did nothing. He merely stayed rooted in the doorway, gaping at a man he’d long thought to be dead. Eggsy’s smile diminished with each passing second.

“Y-Yeah, I know, shockin’, right?” he laughed anxiously. “Williamson was buildin’ a fuckin’ time machine. Thirty goddamn years. It’s insane.”

Harry still didn’t say anything, though he’d taken a few small steps inside. Eggsy slowly stood up off the bed.

“I…” he faltered. “I gotta say, you look well fit for fifty-six. And the eyepatch ain’t bad, either.”

Harry was a mere foot away now.

“Harry…” Eggsy looked up at him, his expression pained. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry-”

And that broke the older man- his arms came up and pulled Eggsy into a sudden, tight embrace. Eggsy froze for all of three seconds before he melted in Harry’s arms, wrapping his own around the man’s back. He was only slightly aware of the fact that he was crying, dampening Harry’s impeccable suit, but it didn’t seem like Harry particularly cared about that.

Merlin watched the scene with a small smile, before closing the door to give them some privacy.

They stood like that for what could have been either minutes or hours.

“How…” Harry muttered. “I thought… Oh my god.”

Eggsy couldn’t help but smile a little. It was a rare thing to hear Harry Hart so ineloquent.

To his dismay, Harry pulled away, but the agent made up for it by moving his hands to cup either side of Eggsy’s face. He stared at Eggsy, as if trying to see if every detail was exactly as he remembered.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered. “I thought you were _dead,_ Eggsy.”

Eggsy brought one hand up to curl around one of Harry’s. “You know it’d take a lot more than a loony science freak to take me out.”

Harry let a laugh escape from his lips, and Eggsy felt himself swell with joy at the mere sound. The older man moved his head forwards, but only slightly, as if he were afraid to go any further. Eggsy wasn’t having it.

He leaned up and pressed their lips together in a chaste kiss. He felt Harry freeze for a moment before he calmed, pressing back eagerly, though he did not deepen the gesture. Eggsy broke the kiss a few moments later.

“I’m home, Harry.”

 

* * *

 

Eggsy was discharged from the infirmary just two days later, since Merlin wanted to take another scan of the ‘harmless radiation’ covering his body and make sure that it was really ‘harmless’. During those days, Harry hardly left his side- like he feared that leaving Eggsy for one moment would make him disappear permanently. He’d been filled in on what had happened; or at least, what they were pretty sure had happened. A few of the other Kingsmen, the ones who had known and were fond of Eggsy, were informed as well- the Williamson case was becoming a priority within the agency. They gave varying degrees of surprised reactions, then gave Eggsy and warm pat or hug, and went back to their respective assignments. Alastair had acted like the thirty years hadn’t gone by, and he and Eggsy resumed their usual banter- it lacked its old edge, of course, since there was no longer any competition between them, but it was at least enough to act as a comfort to Eggsy, who was currently rather confused and upset.

After the initial joy of their reunion, Harry, for as much as he was attached to Eggsy, was equally distant. It was as if he were afraid of _touching_ Eggsy again, so he settled for standing or sitting as close as possible. Sometimes Eggsy would catch Harry staring at him, and he’d try to smile back, but the older man turned his face away before his lips could even twitch. It was driving Eggsy insane, but he figured he could ask about it when they were finally alone, away from prying eyes.

So after he was discharged, he went home with Harry, who, unsurprisingly, still lived in the same home. He was a man of routine, Harry, and Eggsy was glad that thirty years hadn’t changed that. Nor had they changed much else, he noted, as he stepped into the house which was exactly the same as it was all those years ago. Well, there was the occasional technological upgrade here and there, but for the most part, it didn’t feel like he’d been sucked into a time machine and hurled into the future. It felt like home.

He said as much to Harry, who had been quiet the entire car ride. “I’d say ‘love what you’ve done with the place’, but…” Eggsy grinned to show that he was teasing, and felt a small surge of victory when Harry sighed fondly in response.

“There are a few changes around here, I’m sure.”

“The stuff Merlin made you take home doesn’t count.”

Harry rolled his eyes. He suddenly looked rather somber. “... Most of your things are gone.”

Eggsy blinked. “Well… yeah.” He shrugged his shoulders and stuck his hands in his pockets- he was wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that had been loaned to him from the infirmary. His suit was in tatters and, like Harry said, his stuff was gone. “It’s not like you would have known to hold on to them. So, what? You give away my stuff to charity or summat?”

“I gave them to your mother.”

“Oh.” Eggsy had tried not thinking of his family while he was stuck in bed. But, now that he and Harry were alone… “What, um…”

“She’s still alive, Eggsy,” he said softly. “She lives with your sister. They’re still in London.”

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “That’s good.” Pausing, he thought of his stepfather. “Wait, what about-?”

“Dean Baker is currently serving a life sentence in prison, along with most of his cronies.” Harry looked up thoughtfully. “Apparently, one of them got out on good behavior. I trust he won’t get into trouble again.”

“...” Eggsy stared at him. “Did you… have something to do with that…?”

“It’s nothing. Oh,” Harry blinked, as though he just remembered something. “There is something else that’s new.” He grimaced. “I’m not entirely sure what you’ll think of it.”

“What is it?”

Harry began walking down the hall, and Eggsy followed him, until they reached his downstairs bathroom. Eggsy opened his mouth to ask a question, but Harry pushed the door open and let his ‘something else’ speak for itself.

Or themselves, rather.

Eggsy was silent for a long time. Then, in an incredulous voice, he murmured, “You stuffed the dogs.”

“Yes.”

“When-”

“Mr. Pickles in ‘92. JB passed shortly after New Year’s Day, 2000.”

“... Christ, JB got fat.”

“Sorry,” Harry muttered. “He became even more of a glutton after you…”

“Right.” Eggsy turned to face Harry, and seeing the stricken look on his face made him laugh. “I’m not upset, Harry. I should have figured, what with your fuckin’ bugs.”

Harry took on a mildly offended expression, which only made Eggsy laugh harder. The younger man leaned in, intending to give Harry an innocent peck on the cheek, like he usually would, but Harry stepped back rather awkwardly.

He stared at the man, confused. “Harry?”

“I… It’s been thirty years, Eggsy.”

“Yeah. I know.” Eggsy frowned; like he hadn’t had that particular fact hammered into his brain since he woke up only a week ago? “So?”

“I am not the same man I was when you…” Harry trailed off, looking off to the side.

“Again; so?” Eggsy stepped towards him, cautiously, in case he tried to run away. It didn’t seem likely in the narrow hallway, but Harry had a history of surprising escapes. “Your house is almost exactly the same as it was in 1984. I reckon you haven’t changed all that much, either.”

“ _Eggsy,”_ Harry spoke, taking on an exasperated tone that really made him sound his age. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Well, what did you mean, then?”

“I am _fifty-six_ years old.” Harry grimaced. “I’m old enough to be your father now.”

Eggsy blinked, his mouth falling open just slightly. “... Is _that_ why you’ve been actin’ so weird lately?”

Harry continued on, his speech hurried by embarrassment. “Eggsy, you cannot even begin to understand how happy I was to see you- I still can’t believe it, really. I still think this might be some sort of dream and I don’t want to wake up from it, but-...”

“But?” Eggsy asked challengingly, stepping right up to Harry, so close that their chests were just a hair’s breadth away from each other. The young man had an angry glower as he stared up at his lover.

Harry managed to look down at him, staring directly into his eyes. “... I got shot, Eggsy.” He didn’t even have to gesture to his eyepatch, for Eggsy’s gaze was already directed to it. “In addition to being an old man, I’m barely fit for fieldwork anymore. I get pounding headaches, sometimes my hands will shake uncontrollably, and I still wake up in the middle of the night _screaming_ because of what happened on V-Day.” He swallowed uncomfortably, finally looking away from Eggsy, who stared at him, bewildered.

“... What’re you sayin’, Harry?”

“...” Harry sighed softly. “You deserve so much better, now.”

Something within Eggsy _snapped._ The weight of it all, the shock and the confusion and the pain, came crashing down on him in that instant.

“Oh, _fuck you,”_ he hissed, earning a scandalized look from the older gentleman. “You don’t get to say shit like that like I’m some fuckin’ kid, Harry! I mean, I- fuck, just a week ago, you were shaggin’ my bloody brains out just cause I walked out of the shower without shirt, and now you’re just-... Fuckin’ hell, Harry!” Tears gathered in the corner of Eggsy’s eyes, and it looked like Harry wanted to embrace him, but Eggsy wasn’t sure at the moment if he’d accept it, or just push him away. He didn’t want to think about it, so he pressed on instead.

“I missed thirty years of shit, yeah, but I still know you better than fuckin’ anyone, alright? You could be eighty years old and a cripple for all I give a fuck, and I’d still love you so goddamn much-!” Eggsy choked back a sob, tilting his head down so that Harry wouldn’t see the tears now streaming openly down his face. He’d rarely ever cried in front of Harry before, he realized, but then again, he’d never had much of a reason to.

He almost startled when Harry’s hands came to settle on his shoulders- not quite an embrace, but at least it was something.

“My mum must be near her eighties now, and my little sister probably doesn’t even remember my face. My dogs are dead, I’m out of a job, and I’m surrounded by shit I don’t understand. Don’t do this to me, please,” he begged, willing his body to stop trembling for one goddamn second. “Don’t take away the one thing I thought I still had left.”

“Oh, Eggsy,” is all Harry could say, his tone wrought with heartbreak. His fingers twitched on Eggsy’s shoulders, but he made no move to come closer. He hesitated for so long, in fact, that Eggsy shrugged off his hands in a quick motion and stepped back, wiping his arm across his face to clear it of tears.

They stood there, quietly, for a few moments. Then, Eggsy’s murmured question came and hung in the air. “Do you still love me, Harry?”

There was a pause. Then a sigh. “Of course I do, you daft fool. Why else do you think I said those things?”

Eggsy frowned angrily. “You basically told me to fuck off cause you thought you weren’t good enough for me. That doesn’t say ‘I love you’, that says ‘I’m fuckin’ scared’.”

Harry finally looked a little pissed off. “ _Thirty years_ have passed for me. It took years to get over your disappearance, and then you suddenly show up again, looking exactly the same as I remembered you. Forgive me if I’m a bit off kilter,” he murmured. “And it’s been less than a week for you. You’re still young. You still have so much potential, Eggsy; don’t waste it on me.”

“Waste?” Eggsy laughed incredulously, mirthlessly. “Harry, what the fuck happened to you? Why do you hate yourself?”

“If you knew,” Harry said quietly, “I’m sure you’d understand.

“Then _tell me.”_

Harry didn’t say anything.

Eggsy’s shoulders sagged with defeat. He took a deep breath and stormed past the older man, heading straight for the entryway of the house. Harry followed him moments later, just as Eggsy was reaching for the door.

“Where are you going?” he asked, and he had the nerve to sound _worried._

“Out,” Eggsy barked sharply. “This is what you want, ain’t it? Me gettin’ out? Away from poor, old Harry _fuckin’_ Hart.” He turned the knob and shivered against the sudden onslaught of the chill- he hadn’t realized it had gotten so late.

“Eggsy-” Harry started, but Eggsy stepped outside and slammed the door behind him much more forcefully than was necessary. He walked away as quickly as he could, ignoring the cold on his bare arms, and pulled out a flat device from his pockets.

Merlin had given him the phone shortly after he and Harry had their tearful reunion. He’d shown him the basics of using it ( _touchscreens,_ goddamn it, it was so fucking cool), but Eggsy only had three numbers saved on it at the moment: Merlin’s, Harry’s, and Roxy’s.

Without letting himself think about what had just happened, Eggsy dialled in a number and held the phone to his ear.

“Yeah- Roxy? It’s Eggsy. I, uh… I know it’s kind of late, but can I talk to you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try to get into Harry's head more in like, the next NEXT chapter or so.


	6. The best of friends are the naughty ones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roxy helps cheer Eggsy up, there's a family reunion, but then everything goes tits-up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, to make up for the heart-wrencher a lot of you said the last chapter was, please, have a Roxy-Eggsy shopping spree.
> 
> Also, I named Roxy's poodle Renoir.

* * *

 

Roxy’s house was similar in layout to Harry’s, but definitely more modern. She had fancy, sleek furniture and expensive decorations, though Eggsy didn’t feel the slightest bit uncomfortable.

When he’d called Roxy a little over an hour ago, she immediately asked where he was, and minutes later, she was picking him up in her car and driving him to her place. She could probably tell that he’d been crying, as she didn’t say a word; she only gave his hand a gentle squeeze as she maneuvered him onto the couch and sat beside him. It was then Eggsy realized that she was in her pajamas- pale blue with little poodles on them, _adorable_. He’d have to tease her about those later.

He told her everything that had been said between himself and Harry, and she listened patiently, as if she and Eggsy had been friends their whole lives. When he was done, she kept holding onto his hand as she took her turn to speak.

“Honestly, I never thought of Harry Hart as an emotional man,” she started, her voice even. “These past few days are the most expressive I’ve ever seen him.”

He looked at her miserably. “What happened to him? Why is he… like that?”

“I think you might have been a part of it. My uncle and Merlin told me how close the two of you were,” she smiled sadly. “They told me that when everyone thought you died, Harry became reckless. He barely looked after himself in the field, and he was in the infirmary every other mission.”

Eggsy’s eyebrows shot up at this information, but he let Roxy continue without interruption.

“He did manage to get a hold of himself, eventually, but he wasn’t the same. I can’t really say I blame him. If I’d lost the love of my life…” Her eyes clouded over in thought. Eggsy wondered if she was thinking of a certain bald technician, but he knew better than to ask.

“Shouldn’t he be happy, then?” he said instead. “I came back. I’m alive.”

“Ideally, yes. Everything should be sunshine and puppy dogs,” Roxy replied. “But... thirty years, Eggsy. You have to know that some things just change. It’s not an easy adjustment to make.”

“So, what? I’m just supposed to accept the fact that my life as I knew it is completely dead? That the man I love more than anything doesn’t want anythin’ to do with me anymore?” Eggsy balled his fists up on his knees, despite the fact that Roxy’s hand still covered one of his own.

“It’s not that he doesn’t want anything to do with you,” she said earnestly. “He thinks he’s doing what’s best for you. I don’t agree with it, by any means, but he did what he did _because_ he still loves you.”

“Then how do I show him that I don’t care what he thinks is best? That I don’t give a flyin’ fuck about his age or whatever the hell happened on V-Day?”

“Talk things out with him. Maybe give it a few days, though. At least until this mess with Williamson’s machine has been resolved.”

Eggsy leaned back against her couch and groaned. “... Yeah, alright… Thanks, Rox.”

She grinned. “Any time. Now,” she patted his hand. “Get some rest. I think I know a way to cheer you up tomorrow.”

 

* * *

 

Eggsy awoke in Roxy’s guest bedroom with a large black poodle draped over his legs. Apparently, her name was Renoir. He got to pet her for about ten minutes before Roxy dragged him out of bed and made him get ready. For what, he didn’t know.

Only a little while later, as they were settled in Roxy’s posh-as-hell car, pulling up to a large shopping complex, did it become apparent that Roxy’s idea of cheering someone up was, strangely enough, a shopping spree.

“Wow.” Eggsy said, staring at the young woman like she’d grown another head.

“What?” she huffed. “If you make _one_ sexist joke-”

He held up his hands in a defensive manner. “I wasn’t, I swear! I just never pictured you as the type.”

He and Roxy got out of the car and began walking towards the shops. Eggsy had to stop himself from marveling at the strange fashions people wore nowadays- some of them were hardly wearing anything, it seemed.

“Yes, well, I had to do _something_ when my father forbid me from joining the military.”

“So you _shopped?”_

“More accurately, I began spending absurd amounts of money on nonsense. He practically begged me to join the military, if only to save his precious fortune.” Roxy rolled her eyes, but a smug smirked was affixed to her lips. Eggsy chuckled.

“You’re kinda scary, Rox.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

Eggsy looked around them, surrounded by various different stores. Some brands he recognized, but a vast majority of them were new.

“So, uh… You think shoppin’s gonna cheer me up?” he asked, somewhat dubious to the idea.

“Well, I might’ve called Merlin this morning while you were preoccupied with Renoir,” she smiled. “And I just so happened to acquire the PIN to Arthur’s Kingsman-issued credit card.”

Eggsy blinked. “How-...”

“Let’s just say Merlin is on your side.”

Slowly, the young man grinned. “Oh, you are just aces, you are.”

She led him through the shopping center and asked him to pick out a store- any store. They ended up wandering into an Adidas place, simply because it was brand Eggsy knew well.

“Use to wear this stuff back in… well, you know,” he said, examining a black-and-white tracksuit. “Drove Harry mad. He was always tryin’ to get me to dress up, even before I was proposed.”

Roxy appeared from behind a rack of clothing, holding up a pair of bright white trainers with garish wings attached to them. Eggsy adored them already.

“Would these drive him suitably insane?” she asked innocently.

“Fuck yeah.”

In the end, they left the store with seven shirts, four pairs of pants, five pairs of shoes, three snapback hats, and a receipt totaling in at over a thousand.

And that was just the first store. Within two hours, Eggsy had a veritable wardrobe packed away in Roxy’s car, and the smug knowledge that he’d spent well over two thousand pounds with _Harry’s_ money. Also, there was the knowledge that he and Roxy, for better or for worse, were now best mates- he’d let her buy a few things for herself, after all.

They drove back to Roxy’s place and just relaxed on her bed, Renoir sniffing suspiciously at the numerous bags they’d brought home.

“Feel better?” asked the female agent.

“So much better,” he agreed. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” She nudged him with her elbow. “Anything else you want to get out of your system?”

Eggsy was quiet for a while. “Well… There kinda is somethin’... But it doesn’t got anythin’ to do with Harry.”

Roxy sat up. “What is it?”

“I…” He looked at her. “I wanna see my family again. My little sis and my mum.”

“You mean, no one’s contacted them-?”

“Nah. Merlin wasn’t sure how they’d handle it, and I figured I could ask Harry about it when we got to his place, but…” Eggsy shrugged. “I tried not to think about them, but when I found out what year it was... You know, my sister is thirty-three now? She was barely walking when I last saw her.” A sad smile curled on his lips. “And my mum… Shit, I’m afraid of givin’ her a heart attack. But I _need_ to see them.”

“I understand,” Roxy replied emphatically. Her face was set in grim determination. “We’ll find them.”

 

* * *

 

All it took was another phone call to Merlin, and Roxy had the Unwin’s information in hand. Their address wasn’t too far, so they once again piled into Roxy’s car and set off. Eggsy tapped his fingers nervously on the expensive leather upholstery. Roxy wanted to reassure him, but honestly, neither of them knew how it was going to turn out. So she remained quiet as her GPS directed the car to a modest-looking home in the suburbs. They pulled up to the designated address.

She looked at Eggsy. “Are you ready?”

“No,” he said honestly. “But we might as well go now before I lose my nerve.”

They both got out of the car, and Eggsy took the lead by walking to the front door, Roxy trailing close behind him. His finger hesitated for a moment over the doorbell. Then, he pressed it, and stepped back, hoping for the best.

A few moments later, a man opened the door. He was dressed casually in a t-shirt and jeans, and he raised an eyebrow at the sight of two strangers on his doorstep.

“Yes?” he asked. “Can I help you?”

“Er…” Eggsy was momentarily thrown off by the man, since he’d expected at least his sister to answer the door. “Is this, um, Daisy Unwin’s house?”

The man looked amused. “Well, technically. But she hasn’t been Daisy ‘Unwin’ for a long time.” At Eggsy’s confused look, he chuckled. “Not since I married her. It’s Daisy Harville, now.”

“I- oh. Oh, wow.” Confusing emotions welled up in Eggsy’s chest. His little sister was _married._

The man, his fucking brother-in-law, coughed, regaining Eggsy’s attention. “So, um… Can I help you?” he repeated.

“Oh, right, sorry… I’m… Well, I’m a relative.” Behind him, he heard Roxy snicker, but the man didn’t seem to notice. “My name’s… Gary.”

After a moment of consideration, and perhaps somewhat reluctantly, the man let them come inside. Eggsy allowed himself to marvel at the tastefully-decorated and cozy space his family now called home. It was definitely a step-up from the old, ratty apartment they used to share with _Dean._

The man lead them to the living room and said he would go and get Daisy, who was most likely in the garden. Roxy and Eggsy sat on a plush white sofa and waited.

“Nice place,” Roxy commented. Eggsy only hummed in response.

Footsteps sounded from the hallway, but they came from the opposite direction the man had walked in to get Daisy. Soon, an old woman appeared in the room.

“Jared? Who was that at the door-?” She paused, seeing the two young adults on the couch. Her eyes grew large at the sight of Eggsy.

Roxy frowned, not knowing who the woman was, but Eggsy jumped to his feet. She was older, definitely; her hair was all grey and her skin was marked with wrinkles, but Eggsy Unwin knew his mother when he saw her.

“E-Eggsy…?” her voice trembled, and she took a step back, as if in fear.

“Mum,” he breathed out.

“… Oh my god, I’ve gone insane…”

“No, mum, you’re not insane!” Eggsy insisted, though he stayed in his place to avoid spooking her. “It’s me. It’s really me.” He smiled brilliantly at her.

Michelle Unwin held her hand to her mouth, her eyes filling with tears. “Eggsy…”

“I know, it’s impossible,” he began to explain, but that was all he had time to say before his mother stepped forwards and swept him up in a bone-crushing hug. He was stunned for a moment before returning the gesture, squeezing his mother tightly. Roxy watched from the couch, smiling softly.

A few minutes later, the man- Jared, they learned- returned with a blonde woman, and they both looked shocked to see Michelle embracing the stranger.

When they finally parted, Michelle took her son’s face in her hands and gave him a watery grin.

“I can’t believe it,” she whispered. “You haven’t aged a day!”

“It’s complicated,” he smiled back.

“Mum?” the woman spoke hesitantly. Michelle and Eggsy both turned to acknowledge her, and the latter realized with a start that the woman was in fact his not-so-little-anymore sister.

“Daisy,” Michelle half-laughed, half-sobbed.

“What’s wrong?” Daisy stepped forward, Jared standing at attention behind her. A military man, Eggsy noted absently. Daisy looked at Eggsy suspiciously. “Who’re you?”

“I’m-” Eggsy stopped himself. How exactly could he go about explaining this? He really wished he’d thought it through a bit more. Luckily, Michelle stepped in for him. The old woman walked to a table set against the wall and picked up a small picture frame. Smiling, she walked back and handed it to Daisy, who took it while sharing a confused glance with her husband.

Then she looked down at the picture, and did a double-take. She gaped at Eggsy, then at the picture. Her husband peered over her shoulder to see the picture and did the exact same thing.

“How-... Holy _shit_ ,” Daisy exclaimed.

Eggsy would later learn that the picture was of him, taken back when he’d first enlisted in the Marines. It was one of the few pictures they still had of him.

After that, it took quite a bit of explaining, from both him and Roxy, to tell them all what was going on, though there was only so much they could say, being from an organization that prides itself on discretion. Understandably, Daisy and Jared looked skeptical from the moment time travel was mentioned, but Michelle didn’t seem to care what the explanation was, as long as she had her darling boy back. Eventually they reached an understanding. Daisy believed that he was her brother, though that was mostly because her mother had insisted. And whatever Daisy believed, it seemed, so did Jared.

A mere hour later, Eggsy was having tea and chatting with his mum and sister, as well as his brother-in-law and Roxy, like it wasn’t under the weirdest circumstances ever.

“By the way,” Daisy spoke over her mug. “How is Mr. Hart?”

Eggsy flinched. “You mean Harry?”

“Yeah. Last time we saw him was about eleven years ago. Didn’t he tell you about that?”

“Er… Actually, we sort of…” he hesitated. “... had a fight. Didn’t get much of a chance to catch up with him.”

“Oh, darling,” Michelle put a consoling hand on his shoulder.

Eggsy managed to hold back the negative feelings long enough to ask, “What did he do? Didn’t it have something to do with Dean?”

Michelle sighed. “Yes. A few years before, 2002 I think, I finally wised up and left him. But he found me.” Even now, her voice grew small, like it used to whenever Dean was berating her. “You sister got scared and called in some favor we’d been promised. Three days later, Dean and his goons were behind bars, and Harry showed up on our doorstep with keys to a new house.”

Despite wanting to still be mad at Harry, Eggsy smiled. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“I used to hate him, you know,” his mother said. “I thought he’d gotten you killed. But then I saw him, standing on our doorstep, looking as guilty as he did all those years ago, and I realized just how much he loved you.” Her hand came up to cup Eggsy’s cheek. “I really hope you work things out with him, Eggsy. A love like that comes once in a lifetime.”

Eggsy swallowed the growing lump in his throat and nodded.

He and Roxy departed some time later- Daisy had stopped Eggsy on his way out the door, stared at him for five seconds, and then enveloped him in a hug as tight as he one their mother had given him. She made him promise to come back, and he obliged. Giving his mother one last hug, and shaking Jared’s hand in a friendly manner, Eggsy walked to the car, where Roxy was already waiting.

As they drove away, Roxy looked over to see Eggsy smiling to himself. “How are you feeling?”

“A lot better. I think…” he paused, taking a deep breath. “I think I should talk to Harry now.”

“You don’t want to wait?”

“He’s waited thirty years. I ain’t makin’ him wait a second more.”

Roxy smiled, and opened her mouth to say something in reply-

-when another car smashed directly into them.

The loud, metallic crash sent them spiralling off the road, the both of them shouting in alarm. Luckily, the road was mostly abandoned at that time, and the road lay on a flat surface. When the car skidded to a halt, they were both bleeding, shattered glass cutting into their skin, but it wasn’t the worst either of them had ever had- they were Kingsmen, after all. Well, one of them was _officially,_ anyway.

“Fuck…” Eggsy groaned, cradling his arm, which had a rather sizable shard of glass jutting out of it. “Rox, you alright?”

“I… Yes, I’m fine,” she managed to breathe out.

“Who was that jackass?” he growled.

As if cued, the car that had rammed into them, which curiously had no marks or scuffs, opened, and two burly men stepped out. Even from that distance, Eggsy could spot the guns tucked in their jackets.

“Shit- Rox!” he struggled to unbuckle himself, and heard the sounds of Roxy doing the same, as the men came stalking towards them.

Roxy glanced out her window and cursed- one man was holding a some gun, not one she was used to seeing, but one she recognized, and was aiming it at her. She gave up on her seatbelt and instead flicked open a panel on her car’s dashboard. The Kingsman symbol glittered in the afternoon sun, an array of buttons laying neatly underneath it.

“Rox, what are you-!” Eggsy tried to ask, but the other man had a similar gun to his cohort, and fired it at Eggsy. A small dart embedded itself in Eggsy’s neck, and soon the young man was out cold.

Roxy winced as Eggsy slumped forwards, but her shaking fingers still found their mark- she pressed a small yellow button just as the first man fired his gun. She felt her eyelids grow heavy, but she had enough presence of mind to close up the panel before the men got to them.

Then, she passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so... There might be smut in this. Like, at the very end. But I don't have a lot of experience writing smut, and I'm a little nervous. But, like, I have the scene planned out in my head down to every last detail, so.. We'll see what happens. Just a little warning.
> 
> Okay. See you later.


	7. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kingsman learns of Eggsy and Roxy's abduction, and a rescue mission in underway. Roxy doesn't really need the help, though.

Harry Hart was used to solitude.

He was the only child to his mother and father, who were barely even around for most of his childhood, and he had so many nannies and tutors shuffled around that he never got to form a connection with any of them. If that ever bothered Harry, he never let it show. Then he joined the military, where he was standoffish at best to his fellow soldiers, but at least he thrived in that environment.

Then, he’d been approached by an older gentleman named Chester King, and he learned about Kingsman.

In Kingsman, Harry made a friend- Merlin. At least, he was the closest approximation to a friend that he’d ever had, and that sentiment was felt equally by the technician himself. Harry didn’t bother bonding with the other recruits (though he could work with them when necessary), and when he became Galahad, things weren’t very different. He had one friend, and a dog. He was all set, he decided.

But then came Eggsy.

He’d intended for their initial meeting to be a simple one-night encounter, perhaps ending with a mess of sheets and sweaty limbs entangled beneath them, followed by a flustered goodbye in the morning, and then he’d be out the door and out of Harry’s life. Instead, they’d shared a pint together, and Harry heard Eggsy laugh. He saw him smile. Smile _at_ Harry.

Suddenly, he never wanted him to leave.

That was the start of what Merlin had dubbed ‘The Downfall of Harry Hart’- affectionately, of course. As he opened up to Eggsy, he gradually opened up to his fellow Kingsmen, and found that he rather enjoyed their company. There was Percival (Alastair’s predecessor), who was a workaholic, yet somehow managed to find time to spend with his eight nieces and nephews; there was Gawain, who loved to meddle in the affairs of their coworkers, and many a time Harry had been dragged into some ridiculous scheme to prank the other agents (Gawain’s betrayal of Kingsman was made much more painful when Harry remembered those times, so he tried not to); even Chester, for all his elitist nonsense, had some redeeming quality in that he deeply cared for his younger sister. The point was, Harry let his guard down, and he never considered it a bad thing.

When Eggsy ‘died’, however, it felt like the worst decision he’d ever made. He was vulnerable to the pain he thought he’d protected himself from, and it fucking _hurt._ Now, he didn’t immediately regress to his old ways. He was withdrawn, yes, but no one could fault him for that. But aside from those already settled there, Harry never opened his heart to anyone. He’d tried, with Jonathan, but in the end, he preferred his loneliness. Even with Eggsy back, it seemed like it was hard habit for Harry to break.

So that was how Harry found himself in his office, staring at a bottle of brandy and debating on opening it.

His last conversation with Eggsy had been playing on repeat in his head, and each repetition made Harry’s head and heart hurt more and more. Part of him was firm, confident that he’d done the right thing in turning Eggsy away. He could do so much better than an old man, surely. He didn’t want Eggsy to stay with him out of pity. But the other part of him, the damned sentimental side that Eggsy had always managed to drag out, berated Harry for breaking the boy’s heart.

Harry grimaced at the bottle. _Boy._ He knew Eggsy was a mature adult, but to compare the two of them side-by-side now… Harry was more likely to be mistaken for a sugar daddy rather than Eggsy’s proper boyfriend.

He reached for the brandy miserably, which of course meant that Merlin had to come bursting into the room. Harry looked up, annoyed, ready to chastise Merlin for not knocking, but the anxious look on the technician’s usually stoic face made the words die on his lips.

“It’s Lancelot,” Merlin said, his forehead creased with worry; he always did have a soft spot for Miss Roxanne. “She activated a distress signal from her car, somewhere near the suburbs.”

Harry straightened his back, slipping easily into the role of Arthur. “Do we know why?”

“We located her car; it crashed off the road, but there was no one inside.” Merlin shifted uncomfortably. “Harry… You should know, Eggsy was with her.”

Almost immediately, Harry’s good eye grew wide. “What?!”

Merlin winced at the volume of his voice, but Harry didn’t care. “He stayed the night at her place, and then they’d gone to visit Eggsy’s family.”

A million thoughts raced through Harry’s brain, but all that managed to come out of his mouth was, “Do we know if they’re okay?”

“It’s hard to say,” Merlin said, with obvious pain. “There was blood in the car-” Harry inhaled sharply, “-but not enough to prove fatal. We’re working on tracking where they’ve been taken.”

Harry took a few moments to recompose himself. Breathing out through his nose, he looked up at the technician. “Do we have any idea who’s responsible for this?”

“It may have to do with the Williamson case,” he replied. “I’m having Percival look into it.”

“Good,” Harry nodded. “Keep me updated. _Please.”_

Merlin spared him a pitying look before leaving the room. Once the door shut behind him, Harry sank into his seat.

Eggsy had always had a propensity for getting into trouble, but to get kidnapped so soon after coming back-... A wave of panic overtook him, and Harry cursed, mostly at himself, for allowing Eggsy out of his sight for even  a moment. All of his doubts and reservations about their relationship were suddenly replaced by the overwhelmingly powerful urge to protect him. He suddenly wished that he had grabbed Eggsy and never let him go, kissed his face until his lips were red and swollen, told him how much he loved and missed him… Harry let out a shuddering breath.

He couldn’t lose Eggsy again. That much he was certain of. He wasn’t sure he could take the hurt a second time.

 

* * *

 

A mere hour later, Merlin had called Harry to the meeting room, and when he arrived, he saw the technician and Percival there, waiting for him.

“Do we have any information?” he asked right away, not wasting any time.

“I’ve tracked down our most likely lead on the Williamson case,” said Percival, gesturing to the mirror that hung above the fireplace. Through Kingsman-issued glasses, one would not see their reflection, but a computer screen, where an image of a middle-aged man was on display. He had green eyes, greying hair, and what looked to be a burn mark on his neck.

“Johann Schmidt,” said Merlin, reading off of his tablet as the two agents looked at the screen. “He used to be a student of Williamson’s, apparently. Has a PhD in theoretical physics. He’s actually rather quiet in the science community.”

Harry kept his gaze on the image. “What evidence do we have?”

Percival answered. “He’s not _that_ quiet. There were rumors that he was trying to complete his old professor’s work, but he passed it off as a hobby, so no one took him too seriously. I went back to look into that offer made for Williamson’s machine, and managed to track it down to a man who works in Schmidt’s lab. Getting him to fess up was easy,” Percival smiled maliciously. “He said that Schmidt was beginning to lose hope when a sudden ‘irregularity’ caught his attention.”

“Irregularity?” repeated Harry, but then realization dawned in his eyes. “Eggsy.”

“Somehow, he’s able to detect anomalies in space,” said Merlin. “There must have been some massive spike of energy caused by the machine, and Schmidt noticed it.”

“So…” Harry furrowed his brow. “Is it safe to assume that Schmidt is responsible for kidnapping Eggsy and Lancelot?”

“He’s our most likely lead. I’ve managed to find his location,” Merlin gestured to the screen, where Schmidt’s image was replaced by a picture of a modern building. “This is his lab. Percival will go in and see if Eggsy and Lancelot are there. If they are, we’ll prepare for extraction. I’ve also got other agents looking into other potential spots, but this one seems the most likely.”

Harry nodded. “Yes… I see.” His fists were clenched tightly at his sides, and Percival looked at him strangely.

Percival addressed his boss. “Sir… Would it be possible for you to accompany me to the lab?”

Both Harry and Merlin startled. “What?” asked the senior agent, dumbfounded.

“I don’t mean for you to go on the mission,” Percival added quickly. “I only mean to ask if you want to ride out to the location. In case Eggsy and Roxanne _are_ there, perhaps it would be better if you were closer to the action.”

Suddenly, Merlin and Harry understood Percival’s unstated message. If Eggsy _was_ at Schmidt’s lab, then Harry should be present for the rescue. After all, since he was just barely cleared for field duty, it was the most he could afford to do. They shared a glance; Merlin nodded, and Harry was immensely grateful to his old friend.

“Indeed. When do we leave?”

 

* * *

 

When Eggsy was roused into consciousness, he found that he couldn’t move. His wrists and ankles were tied down, and he was lying on some flat, metal surface. Blinking wearily, he looked around him.

The room was a sterile white, almost like a hospital room, were it not for the various machines and computer monitors staring back at him. Running his gaze down along his body, he saw that bandages covered his arm, which ached only slightly. He could feel more bandages on his face. He suddenly remembered the car- the crash, and _Roxy,_ and he struggled against his restraints.

“Rox!” he yelled, voice hoarse.

Almost immediately, the door was opened, but it wasn’t Roxy on the other side. It was a man in a white lab coat. He grinned widely at Eggsy, whose eyes were drawn to the nasty-looking burn on his neck.

“Who the fuck’re you?” Eggsy asked.

“Dr. Schmidt,” he answered, still smiling. He moved towards Eggsy like a predator to his prey. “But you can call me Johann, if you’d like. Gary Unwin, isn’t it?”

Eggsy bit his lip and refused to answer, which only made Johann chuckle.

“No need to keep secrets from me, my dear lad. I know everything about you.” He reached Eggsy’s side and patted his shoulder; Eggsy flinched. “Gary Unwin, born July 3rd, 1960. You look very good for fifty-five.”

“Yeah, well,” Eggsy said, through gritted teeth, “I got a pretty good beauty regime.”

Johann actually laughed. “There, you see? This whole process will go much smoother if we can be as friendly as this.”

“Is it friendly to tie people down? Or crash a fuckin’ car into them?”

The doctor did look apologetic, going as far as to squeeze Eggsy’s shoulder. "Ah, yes, that. I am sorry, but it when we finally figured out where you were, I wanted to get you here right away."

Eggsy glared at him. "What about my friend?"

"The girl? She's fine. We put her in a separate room to recover. A quick and painless injection and she won’t be a problem anymore."

The restraints around Eggsy's wrists jangled as he pulled. "You don't lay one fuckin' hand on her!"

Johann sighed. "It's a necessary precaution, I'm afraid. Can't have anyone leaking information on my top secret project, can I?"

"So why're you yappin' on about it to me?" Eggsy asked, eyes scanning the room for the most effective method to kill Dr. Schmidt. "You gonna inject me too?"

"Oh no, Gary. My plans for you are special. After all," Johann leaned in close, his breath ghosting over Eggsy's ear, "you are quite the unusual specimen."

"The fuck are you talkin' about?"

"You, dear lad, are the only human being to ever travel through time. Don't you realize what that means?"

He waited for Eggsy to say something, but the young man only glared in response. Johann gave a dramatic sigh.

"It means that you are covered in vortex radiation," he explained. "And I need to examine that radiation for my own research."

"What, that's all?" Eggsy blinked. "You're just gonna study me?"

Johann grimaced then. "Well... No, I'm afraid. Vortex radiation, as I'm sure you can imagine, is very hard to find. I want to gather as much of it as possible. Unfortunately, it has a nasty habit of soaking into a person's blood." He tapped his burn with one finger. "This is what happens when you try handling the radiation raw. A flawed first attempt if ever there was one,” he smiled jokingly. “The radiation needs to stabilize itself in some sort of liquid, it seems, and blood is the perfect conductor. It's very interesting, no?"

"No," Eggsy barked in reply. "Let me get this straight- you need my goddamn blood?"

He nodded. "A very large quantity of it. Which means you're likely going to die. Not enough time to do a blood transfusion, you see, and that would risk contaminating the radiation anyway."

“You’re fuckin’ _insane_ , mate.”

A shrug was all he got for that. “I’ve been called worse.” He stepped around the young man and picked something up off of a table that had been outside of Eggsy’s field of vision. It was a syringe. “Now, don’t worry. You won’t feel a thing. It’ll be like falling asleep.”

Seeing the needle, Eggsy began struggling against his restraints with a renewed sense of panic. He had no weapons, no back-up, no plan… He was _fucked._

Johann injected Eggsy with the sedative, and the last thing the young man saw before passing out again was a smile far too gentle for what was about to happen.

 

* * *

 

Roxy felt a hand on her arm, but she kept her eyes shut and waited, her breathing deep and even, as though she were asleep. The hand lifted her arm and she heard the clink of something metallic. A thumb pressed against the veins in the crook of her elbow and she reacted.

She yanked her arm down, earning a surprised shout from whoever had been handling it, and brought her knee up to hit the unidentified person in the stomach. They fell to their knees, and she swung her legs over the side of the bed, checking her surroundings in the same instant. It was a plain white room, furnished with only one bed and a chair, like the bare basics a hospital would have- definitely not Kingsman grade. Roxy looked down at the person she’d attacked, and saw that it was a man. She also saw that he was pulling a knife out of his pocket, so she delivered a quick, brutal blow to his neck with the pointed tip of her high heels, and he was soon lying in a growing pool of blood. Roxy stepped over him effortlessly.

Her jacket was hung over the back of the chair, so she grabbed that, and a quick search through her pockets revealed that her USB, lipstick, and most miraculously of all, her glasses were still inside. She put the latter on and hoped that someone was listening on the other side.

“Hello?” she called.

It was silent for almost a half-minute, when blessedly, a familiar Scottish tone replied. “Roxy?”

She barely contained her grin. “Merlin.”

There was another pause, and then Merlin spoke again- he sounded so tired, yet at the same time relieved. “What happened? We got your distress signal.”

“Someone crashed into my car and took us somewhere,” she said, peering outside of her room as she talked. “Some kind of medical facility? No, it looks more like a lab.” Machines of all shapes and sizes littered the space outside, and it looked like a modern take on Dr. Frankenstein’s laboratory.

“Where is Eggsy? Is he alright?”

“I can’t see him. They might have put him in another room.”

“Roxy, can you see any kind of identifying marks in the lab? Some kind of name or placard?”

She stepped out into the space, scanning every surface until she spotted a glint of polished metal affixed to the wall. She walked up to it. Since her glasses were transmitting the image to Merlin, she didn’t bother reading it aloud. But he did.

“Schmidt Technologies,” he murmured. “Well, at least Harry and Percival aren’t wasting their time.”

Roxy blinked. “Wait, Harry?”

“He and Percival will be arriving at the lab shortly, yes.” Merlin went on, anticipating her question. “He won’t be going inside the building, Roxy. He just wants to be there when…”

“When we save Eggsy.” Roxy nodded, smiling. “Got it. Oh, but Merlin?”

“Yes?”

“Could you please tell Arthur that he’s an idiot?”

“I’m sure he’s been telling himself that all day. But I’ll pass along the message.”

“Thank you.”

Roxy said no further words as she prowled through the lab, searching for Eggsy. Every now and again, a scientist or guard would pass by, and she ducked behind a piece of machinery when they did. It was laughably easy, but Roxy still felt anxious, mostly because she was without a gun. She couldn’t just _stab_ _everyone_ with her heels, after all.

Merlin was speaking to her again. “Any chance you can get me inside their computer system? I can hack into their security cameras and look for Eggsy that way.”

She gave a noise of assent, and changed her direction- she’d seen a scientist holding a laptop earlier. She found him again and knocked him unconscious with the taser embedded in her lipstick- a special attachment that Merlin made specially for her. Picking up his laptop, Roxy plugged in her USB, allowing Merlin access to the lab’s system.

“I’m in,” he announced. Roxy remained quiet for a few minutes as he presumably searched the security footage. Then, finally, he uttered a soft “ _Fuck.”_

“Merlin? What is it? Did you find Eggsy?”

“Roxy, get to Hallway 3, Room 6A, _now.”_

She didn’t need to be told twice. She ran through the halls, incapacitating any scientist or guard that spotted her with a shock from her taser lipstick. She got to Hallway 3 in no time at all, and burst through the doors of Room 6A.

A man in a labcoat- Dr. Johann Schmidt, Merlin said- spun around to stare at her. But Roxy’s eyes weren’t on him.

Eggsy lay on a metal table behind Schmidt, his eyes closed, and it would have seemed like he was asleep, were it not for the fact that he had plastic tubes connected to his skin, dark red and pulsing with what was very obviously blood. Eggsy’s skin was turning a sickly pale color, and the rise and fall of his chest was growing slower and slower.

Roxy bit back her rage, even when she realized that Johann was speaking to her.

“My, shouldn’t have underestimated you,” he said, giving her an appraising look. “A mistake on my part. I should have figured.” He pulled a gun out of his jacket faster than Roxy could react to, and pointed it at her. “Well, at least you can die knowing that I’m very impressed.”

They heard the sound of gunshots, but none of them came from Schmidt’s gun. They were coming from down the hall, further into the lab. Schmidt cursed.

“Fuck. Friends of yours?” he asked sourly. Roxy sent him a sweet smile. He grit his teeth and fired his gun, but Roxy was able to duck out of the way and deploy her lipstick one last time, the taser’s probes digging into Schmidt’s neck- he convulsed and fell to the floor, dropping the gun.

Roxy grinned for moment before she turned her attention to Eggsy. With Merlin’s direction, she shut off the machine draining him of his blood, and carefully disconnected the tubes. She tapped Eggsy lightly on the cheek.

"Eggsy?" she asked tenderly.

To her immense relief, a blue eye wearily opened to stare at her, and a tired smile made its way to his lips. "Heya, Rox. Fancy seein' you here..." His eyelid drooped, causing Roxy poke him again to keep him awake.

Another quietly-spoken direction from Merlin told her how to undo the latches that secured Eggsy to the table. She helped him up to a sitting position, though he moved very sluggishly.

"Can you tell how much blood he's lost?" asked Merlin.

"A pint, maybe more," she responded, throwing a disgusted look at the glass jars housing Eggsy's blood. "We need to get him medical attention."

"Percival and Harry are on their way," promised the technician. She was about to repeat Harry’s name with concern when Eggsy tugged on her sleeve.

"You talkin' to Merlin?" Eggsy slurred. "You should tell him I like him better bald. It suits him or some shit, I don't fuckin' know..."

Roxy smiled at that; she even heard a light chuckle on Merlin's end. Then, Roxy felt a blow to the back of her head; she crumbled to the floor, hearing Merlin's shout in her ears.

Johann Schmidt stood over her, his gun back in his grip and his eyes dangerous. He glared at Eggsy.

"You're a lot more trouble than I figured," he growled. "I might not sedate you now."

Eggsy managed to raise his hand to give a two-fingered salute just as a figure appeared in the doorway. A single gunshot rang out, and a red circle burst between Johann's eyes. He fell next to Roxy, who scrambled to get up.

She and Eggsy both looked towards the door. To their combined shock, it was Harry Hart standing there, his gun still raised. He had a dark, murderous expression as he stared down at Johann's body, but that soon faded as he looked up to see Eggsy on the table. He ran forwards, at Eggsy's side in an instant.

"... Harry...?" Eggsy murmured, his eyelids beginning to feel heavy again.

"Eggsy, no, you need to stay awake," Harry urged, but his voice sounded so far away and warped to Eggsy. He was vaguely aware of Roxy saying something similar, and Alastair had even found his way into the room, but all of their voices were drowned out by the blackness consuming Eggsy's mind.

His head lolled back and he let himself sleep, unaware of Harry’s desperate pleas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone get my not-clever-at-all Doctor Who reference? 
> 
> Johann Schmidt? John Smith? 
> 
> I'll leave quietly now
> 
> EDIT: OH MY GOD I DIDN'T EVEN MAKE THE RED SKULL/CAPTAIN AMERICA CONNECTION. BRAIN, STOP IT.


	8. The beginning of a new age

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Eggsy have a proper heart-to-h(e)art. Pun not intended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I chickened out on the smut. I'll work up to it one day.

* * *

* * *

 

The intensity of the lights in the infirmary hadn’t been dulled at all, it seemed, despite Eggsy’s earlier complaints to Merlin about them. Then again, the technician had rolled his eyes at Eggsy and told him to “stop whining”, so perhaps Eggsy really shouldn’t have expected much.

So he had to put up with them a second time, as he roused himself awake, blinking wearily in the face of severe brightness. He adjusted faster this time, the room coming into focus in seconds, not minutes, and it was much the same as it was the last time he’d been there. Well, aside from one small detail.

Harry Hart was seated on the chair beside his bed, looking over a green folder with numerous papers inside. He was as well-dressed as ever, in a grey double-breast with a blue tie, and even the black eyepatch couldn’t detract from his image as a perfect gentleman. But Eggsy didn’t allow his thoughts to linger on Harry’s appearance.

He found his voice, though it was cracked and dry, like a desert floor. “Harry…?”

Almost immediately, the older man’s head snapped up, his expression reading shocked. The green folder snapped shut and Harry was up and by his side in a second. Before Eggsy could say more, a cool glass of water seemingly came out of nowhere, pressed into his hands, and he gave it a few grateful gulps before handing it back.

Harry set the glass down on a nearby table and smiled softly at Eggsy, bringing his arm over the railings of the bed and covering Eggsy’s hand with his own. Eggsy didn’t flinch, but a brand new wave of questions filled his mind.

“Thank god…” he heard Harry say, under his breath, like he hadn’t wanted Eggsy to hear it.

Still, the younger man didn’t call him out on it. “How long I been out?” he asked instead.

“Almost three days. You really need to stop doing this, Eggsy,” Harry said, with an air of mock-disapproval. “You’re going to give me a heart attack at this rate.”

Eggsy snorted. “You’ve had worse.” Suddenly, he remembered something, and he stared accusingly at his- boyfriend? Was he still able to call him that? “You was in the field.”

“Yes,” Harry replied, unflinching.

“You said you weren’t allowed.”

“I said that I was _barely_ cleared for field duty, not that I was banned from it. But don’t worry. Merlin has already fully chastised me for endangering my life, and Percival wouldn’t stop worrying after me the whole time we were in that lab…” He huffed, clearly displeased with the memory.

In spite of himself, Eggsy quirked a smile. “I would be, too. Arthur is a desk job for a reason, Har.” His gaze softened just a fraction. “But… you saved me, so… Thanks.”

Harry smiled again, bringing Eggsy’s hand up to his lips- they brushed over his fingers, and this time Eggsy _did_ tense up. Harry sensed this and frowned, putting down the younger man’s hands with an almost _guilty_ expression. He sighed.

“We need to talk.”

Eggsy swallowed thickly. “Yeah. We do.”

“Will you permit me to go first?”

He nodded, so Harry started, still holding onto Eggsy’s hand like a lifeline. “Eggsy… I _do_ love you.” He paused as Eggsy’s breath hitched. “... I have never stopped loving you, not once in thirty years. And I still want nothing more in this world than you being beside me.”

“So why won’t you let me?” he whispered.

Harry looked at their hands. “Because it won’t be for long. Whether you choose to accept it or not, I _am_ old, Eggsy. There’s been too much lost time between us, what we had, it’s… It’s passed. I do not want you to stay with me because you feel obligated or guilty. What happened was not your fault, and I am giving you up to let you live to your full potential, unchained from a daft old man.”

He risked meeting Eggsy’s eyes, and was met with the sight of his disturbed expression.

“For fuck’s sake, Harry…” he muttered. “I know you got old.”

Harry flinched, a hurt look crossing over his face, which he valiantly tried to hide.

But Eggsy went on. “I don’t _care.”_ He returned the grip Harry had on his hand, clasping the older man’s long fingers with fervor. “I care that we didn’t grow old _together._ But that don’t stop how I feel about you, alright? Yeah, you’re in your fifties now, but you kick more ass than any fuckin’ twenty-somethin’ I know. And…” Eggsy licked his lips. “If you want me to be honest…”

“What is it?” Harry asked quietly.

“I’m kinda… _likin’_ this whole silver fox thing you got goin’ on,” he admitted, a blush appearing on his cheeks.

Harry stared at him, a blush of his own coloring his face; then, he let out a small chuckle. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Oi,” Eggsy said sharply, before smiling as Harry laughed again. “So… I mean, are we… Good? Do you believe me?”

The older man suddenly became quiet. Eggsy feared for the worst, but then… “I do,” came the soft admission.

Eggsy’s entire face lit up. “So then-” he began, but Harry held up a finger, not done just yet.

“Wait. I need to tell you something first.”

“W-... What?”

“About this,” Harry said, using his other hand to point to his eyepatch. “About V-Day.”

“Harry…” Eggsy frowned. “You don’t have to-”

“I do. Eggsy, if you want to love the person that I am now, I need to do this.”

So Eggsy slowly nodded. Harry took a deep breath. “I’m sure Roxanne has told you the gist of it. A madman billionaire created a signal that would turn everyone who heard it into raging, uninhibited beasts.” He waited for another nod from Eggsy, to show that he did know all that. When the young man obliged, he continued. “But before he turned it on the world, he tested it… on me. I was sent to a church in Kentucky by Chester under the ruse of searching for Valentine- the madman. The signal was activated...” He closed his good eye for a moment, finding a small comfort in the way Eggsy’s grip tightened. “I… I killed forty people in less than four minutes, Eggsy. They were bigots and fanatics, but… I killed innocent people nonetheless. And I remember _enjoying_ it.” He opened his eye, not surprised to see Eggsy staring at him with a mix of horror and sympathy.

“I walked out of that church as the sole survivor of a _massacre._ And then Valentine pulled a gun on me.” He smiled without mirth. “Luckily, he was shit shot.”

“Fuck, Harry…” Eggsy breathed. “None of that was your fault. It was that dickhead’s signal. You ain’t a murderer,” he said, voice so full of compassion that Harry nearly lost his composure.

“I murdered Schmidt,” he pointed out.

“He was hurtin’ me,” Eggsy said plainly. Harry’s face twitched a bit. “You was just protectin’ me. From him.” He freed their hands and brought his up to cup the side of Harry’s face, his thumb lightly brushing over the faint white scar poking out from the older man’s eyepatch. Harry stared desperately into his eyes, searching his face for some sort of answer.

His voice was broken when he finally spoke. “You can’t seriously still want _me,_ Eggsy.”

“I know exactly what I want, love. It ain’t for you to decide.” He smiled gently. “And what I want is to spend the rest of my life with you. You’re right, there has been too much lost time. That’s why we ain’t gonna lose anymore. Not if I can help it.”

Harry was stunned, his mouth propped open by the shock. But Eggsy kept a steady, determined gaze on the man, and soon enough, a slow smile crept onto his lips.

“... Wouldn’t it be more accurate to say that _I’d_ spend the rest of my life with _you?”_

“Fuck,” Eggsy groaned. “Can we not? We’re wasting time, Harry, and I want to kiss you so fuckin’ badly right now.”

He laughed, the bastard. “Then who am I to deny you?”

Harry leaned in, to Eggsy’s delight, and closed the gap between their lips in what finally, unlike their first kiss a few days ago, felt like a proper homecoming.

 

* * *

 

Eggsy spent a week recovering in the infirmary, and during that time he had several visitors. Merlin, of course, dropped in often, and he was usually accompanied by Roxy. They’d chat with Eggsy about small things, though Eggsy noticed the coy glances Roxy would occasionally send the bald technician, and the ones he would give her in return…

He’d seriously have to talk to those two someday, the mutual pining was getting _ridiculous._

Sometimes, Alastair would visit as well, along with any of the other Kingsmen Eggsy had known before. But always at his side was Harry. He’d been doing paperwork while Eggsy slept, it seemed, and the only times he would leave were when Eggsy all but _begged_ him to get some proper rest. Strangely, the green folder he’d seen the first time he woke up was continually present, and Harry was reviewing it every so often. He once caught him _smiling_ at its contents. But Eggsy needed to focus on recovering, so he did just that. Eventually, Eggsy was allowed to leave the infirmary, and Harry took him to their home.

 _Their_ home- Christ, it was a relief to be able to call it that. Gone was the nervousness and worry; he and Harry had worked everything out.

Once they were settled, curled up together on the couch, Eggsy lifted his head from Harry’s shoulder.

“Hey.”

Harry replied softly, as though he’d been drifting off. “Hm?”

“Can I ask you somethin’, even though I’m not technically a Kingsman?”

He smiled knowingly. “That rather depends on what it is.”

“That folder you was lookin’ at?” he asked. “I saw you goin’ over it everyday I was laid up in bed, and sometimes you were _smilin’_ at it.”

“Ah, that,” Harry replied, his tone far too nonchalant for it to be natural. “Simply a proposal Merlin and the others drafted up.”

“What kinda proposal? Like, for a new recruit?” Eggsy continued, with renewed interest.

“Oh, no, we’ve already started the selections for Gawain and Galahad,” he said dismissively, and Eggsy tried not to show how disappointed he was.

“Oh.”

“Something the matter?”

“No, I…” Eggsy sighed. There wasn’t really a point in lying, was there? “I was just kind of hopin’… I still wanna be a Kingsman.”

Harry turned his head and pressed a kiss to Eggsy’s temple. “I suspected as much.”

Eggsy hummed, placated by Harry’s affection. “Guess I could just wait for a new spot to open, as morbid as that sounds.”

“Perhaps not.” Harry was grinning now. “The proposal given to me was of a rather different nature than a simple recruit suggestion. It’s for an old position, but one that hasn’t been filled since the 1960’s, apparently.”

“Really?” asked the younger man, straightening slightly. “What position?”

“It’s rather similar to Merlin’s, though there is also a considerable amount of fieldwork required, mainly as back-up or support to our existing agents.”

Eggsy tilted his head. “That… doesn’t sound too bad.”

Harry gave him a sideways glance, a smirk playing on his mouth. “Interested?”

“Wha- me?” The young man’s eyes were wide.

“Well, yes. The other agents, plus Merlin and myself, all agree that you would be perfect for the position. You do have an extensive history with the agency, after all, and you’ve basically completed your training, thirty year gap notwithstanding.”

Eggsy chuckled, leaning his head back onto Harry’s shoulder, humming contentedly when Harry pressed a kiss to his hair.

“Is that a yes?” asked the older man.

“You bet your arse it is,” Eggsy laughed. “Hey, do I get a codename?”

“But of course.”

“What is it?”

“I’d rather you guessed.”

Eggsy rolled his eyes, moving in a flash, so that he was suddenly straddling Harry’s waist. The older man looked surprised for a moment, before his hands settled comfortably on Eggsy’s hips.

“Ain’t in the mood to play games, love,” Eggsy murmured. “Just tell me.”

“Make me,” Harry replied, smiling challengingly.

Eggsy’s eyes glinted, and in seconds, his mouth was on Harry’s. Minutes later, they were scrambling towards the bedroom, clothes falling off carelessly, and were Harry in a better state of mind, he would have been horrified at the sight of his silk tie abandoned on the floor. As it was, though, with Eggsy grinding their hips together impatiently, he allowed himself that one small transgression, and continued helping his lover up the stairs.

For Eggsy, it had only been a few weeks since he and Harry last slept together- for Harry, it had been three decades. Eggsy was delighted to learn that those years had only sharpened Harry’s prowess in bed (something he’d have to ask about later, but for now, _fuck it)_ and Harry was overjoyed to find that his memories were nothing compared to the real thing.

They collapsed in a sweaty heap, both fighting to even their breaths, as Harry gathered Eggsy up in his arms. He pressed a kiss to his forehead, surprisingly gentle, considering what they’d just done. There had been so much uncontrolled passion and longing that Harry was surprised Eggsy could even gather the capacity to speak.

“You gonna tell me my codename or what?” he asked breathlessly. “I figure you owe it to me now.”

“Hmm…” Harry made a show of pursing his lips, his expression the definition of thoughtful. Eggsy nudged him in the stomach, earning a small laugh from the older man. “Alright, fine.”

He leaned over and whispered a single name into Eggsy’s ear. The younger man’s eyes widened.

“Oh, you _bastard.”_

 

* * *

 

**2016**

 

There came knock at Arthur’s office doors; Harry called out permission to come in, not looking up from the files on his desk.

Roxy and Eggsy both walked in, the former holding herself professionally, while the latter swaggered about as he usually did. They were both dressed impeccably in bespoke suits, Kingsman-issued glasses, and of course, the black oxfords.

“Sir,” they both said in unison, causing Harry to look up. He smiled at them and nodded.

“All went well, I presume?” He glanced at the calendar located off the side of his desk- it was one of those cute-picture-a-day calendars, courtesy of Eggsy; this particular one featured small dogs, such as yorkies and pugs. “You’ve returned earlier than expected.”

“Everythin’ went off without a hitch,” affirmed Eggsy, sending Roxy a dazzling grin. “Rox was aces. Didn’t even need me to tag along.”

“It was more fun with you there,” she said earnestly, grinning back.

“Damn right it was.”

There was something conspiratorial in their smiles. It made Harry raise an eyebrow in suspicion.

“Please tell me you two didn’t blow anything up.”

They both straightened, but at least Roxy had enough shame to school her features into a neutral expression.

“Not this time, Sir,” she answered.

Eggsy snorted, and Harry rolled his eyes. Still, he was smiling fondly.

“Very well. Report to Merlin about the files you retrieved. Lancelot, you are dismissed.”

Roxy nodded, giving Eggsy one last glance before she turned on her heel and began marching towards the door. Just before she could open it, however, Eggsy’s teasing voice reached her ears.

“Tell _Godfrey_ hi for me, yeah?” he said, purposefully emphasizing Merlin’s real name.

She sent him a glare, which was undermined by the sudden pink flush. “Sod off.” And then she was out the door.

Eggsy turned back to face Harry, beaming, and wasn’t at all thrown off by Harry’s disapproving stare.

“You really should stop teasing her, you know,” he said reproachfully. “She and Merlin will work things out on their own time. Also, stop using Merlin’s real name. You know how he hates it.”

“He shouldn’t have told us what it was, then,” replied Eggsy, sauntering over to Harry’s desk. “And anyway, you and I both know that you can’t afford to waste a second. I’m just helpin’ them along, is all.”

“Hm.”

“Speaking of wasted time, what’s takin’ my ‘welcome home’ kiss so damn long?”

Harry shook his head, muttering “cheeky,” under his breath. He grabbed Eggsy’s wrist and tugged him down in one smooth motion, causing the young agent to land on his lap. Eggsy took mere seconds to settle comfortably, and then Harry pressed their mouths together in a deep, long kiss.

When they parted, Eggsy rested his forehead against Harry’s, his lips still hovering above the older man’s.

“I’m home, Arthur,” he said softly, the cheekiness giving way to genuine adoration.

Harry knew he had a similar look on his own face. He smiled, content as any man in the world could be.

“Welcome back, Guinevere.”

 

**END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Guinevere!Eggsy is 100% my jam) 
> 
> Also, for some reason, my headcanon name for Merlin is Godfrey Rogers. I dunno, it seems like a name he'd hate and never want to be called by (but Eggsy is a little shit so of course he calls him that).
> 
> Oh my goodness. I finished two stories in the span of three months. FUCK. This is what hartwin does to me??
> 
> AND I'm going to start planning another one. Lord give me strength for I am hopeless trash


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